“We’re very excited by the prospect of having you as a client. Do you have any questions about us and what we do here?”
Staring down at me from behind a huge wooden desk sat a veteran literary agent and my potential new representation. I glanced from her to her teenage-looking assistant, who was bouncing on a yoga ball and jotting down notes. I subconsciously tugged at my pink headband and lace dress, recent purchases made in hopes of creating a youthful appearance for my meeting. By 30, you’re practically the Cryptkeeper in my industry. My ultra-adolescent outfit was a pathetic attempt to cover up my granny mothball stench.
“Well, I guess I’m curious whether you are going to give me any extracurricular assignments,” I said to the veteran agent.
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