Today has been the most horrible weather, and I need to confront both Giles and Patch on something, but I’m waiting until I calm down before I do it. I’m also writing everything down I want to say so that I don’t start screaming, then crying, then roll into a ball and hide under my desk.
However, calming down is proving problematic when Patch is a self-aggrandizing arsehole and I have to share an open planned office with him.
Let me give you a little rundown of a few items from today’s ‘The Patch Show’:
Patch: At school I was called…no can’t tell you. It’s too embarrassing. (Laugh)
BigEyes: Oh go on, I won’t tell. Promise. (Giggle)
MacDraggyFeet: Oh go on, I won’t tell. Promise. Oh go on, I won’t tell. Promise. (I’m starting to think that I should have just called her Parrot because she literaly repeats whatever someone else is saying, repeatedly. It’s like she’s trying memorize what the other person is saying.)
Patch: Oh okay. But I hate the name. Just hate it. (Laugh)
BigEyes: Go on. (Giggle)
MacDraggyFeet: Go on. Go on.
Patch. Oh. Okay. Just for you two. It was ‘Marathon’ because I always went the distance.
(They swooned, I wretched.)
An hour later.
BigEyes: Oh Marathon. (Giggles)
Patch then smiled as he said, ‘Oh you’. Clearly his plan worked.
Today Patch also decided that we were all to have nicknames. Like we’re in prep school. (Yes I understand the hypocrisy. I use nicknames for the blog. And mean ones. But I have to. I can’t use real names.)
So, today, he’s decided that he’s going to call me Lit2 and refer to himself as Lit1. This isn’t because we’re literary agents, well I am. It’s because he used the word ‘literally’ wrong, I corrected him. He said that I was wrong, when I proved myself right he says, ‘Let’s agree to disagree.’ And Lit1 and Lit2 is a reference to our different definitions of ‘literally’. Or more accurately my correct definition and his wrong one.
If that’s not a power play I don’t know what is. Oh, and BigEyes has started calling me Lit2 and MacDraggyFeet says it repeatedly, as if she were slowly learning to become human and less of a zombie. And it sounds too much like clit and it bothers me.
All day long, ‘Hey, Lit2. You’ll like this. So, I was feeding my kid some broad-beans (laugh) yeah, I know. That’s usually mum’s job. (Laugh.) But I’m a dad who loves spending time with the kiddos. And (laughs) you’ll love this. She ate all the broad-beans. It was classic. Clean plate dad. I’ve got a picture of her with her finished plate. You’ll love it.’
Then I sat as he scrolled through his phone showing me pictures of his kids.
Now, here’s where I’m annoyed. Yeah, I do want kids some day. It is in the plan. But, don’t assume that because I’m a woman I give a right shit about what your kid ate for dinner. And I certainly don’t need to see 35 pictures of your kid at the dinner table with a clean plate. And, I certainly don’t think you’re a fine specimen of a human being just because you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing…taking care of your kid.
Yeah, okay. Once upon a time I was into men who were good Dads. Like I thought Fife was this amazing guy because he loved his kids and was the main career. And look where that got me. Just because you’re a man, you don’t get a free pass at being a dick just because you’re good to your kids.
Anyway, right. So my little trip to Edinburgh yesterday.
I had three publishers I needed to see yesterday. One I’d seen in London, and I wanted to follow up with Scottish arm of the organisation. One small publisher. And one big publisher based in Edinburgh. I would have seen all these guys at the Frankfurt Book Fare but since I didn’t go, I figured that I’d catch up with them now. And I wanted to talk because we’re looking at Christmas displays, and I want to make sure they are pushing for my clients to be front and centre at the bookstores and supermarkets and such.
This can really make or break sales. If you can get your authors on the grab tables for Christmas shopping, you’re set for the year.
Anyway, off I am to my meetings and I hear the same thing from everyone of them. ‘Oh, I met your new boss in Frankfurt.’
The first time it was said to me I thought they meant Giles. But, no. They’re talking about Patch. Patch went around to a load of publishers and introduced himself as the Senior Agent AND my new boss.
Now, I wasn’t told of this Senior Agent malarkey until he got back from Frankfurt, but clearly this had been in the works previously.
And it gets worse. He introduced himself without even looking to see if they are publishing any of our clients. He approached these publishers like he was doing a cold call to someone who never had any dealings with the Agency. How freaking embarrassing.
Oh, and there were two women he spoke with and one man. The two women he showed pictures of his kids, asked if they had kids and then regaled them of stories of bath time. And the man, he chatted about golf and suggested they play around at the Links. He didn’t know anything about the clients, the market, or the publishers. He just played the schmoozy gender card. I was livid.
I wad in a conundrum. If I badmouth him and tell them the truth then the Agency looks bad, and no one is going to trust us. So, I had to play nice. I said that he was the nephew of the new owner (true), and we’re training him up (true). At the last minute I couldn’t make it to Frankfurt (sort of true) and he went in my place (true). He got a little carried away with himself (very true), and he must have made a Freudian slip with the title because he’s actually the ‘Senior Associate’ (not true but should be).
I don’t even know if Senior Associate is a thing, but they bought it. We talked about Christmas merchandising. I passed one of them that manuscript I’d been working on. And hopefully I’ve fixed the situation…until he meets them again.
But, I’ve got my concerns on paper. And after I’ve slept on it, and I’m not so mad, I’ll broach Giles and explain how this is bad for business. What could go wrong?