AGENT, WHERE ART THOU?

Now well established in my 7th decade, lots of unorganized thoughts of bucket list items rumble about in my head.  One that has pushed itself to the fore front is that of publishing  a book.

The question looms, have I written one? The answer is:  indeed I have. It's a children's non- fiction book taken from my life experience.  It involves a story with pictures, aimed at an audience of eight to ten year olds. I even had the fore-sight of letting some children in that age group read it, and they voiced approval and interest, and even likened it to the days of the Civil Rights movemnt.

Enter the quest for an agent to take this product to a publisher.  I guess that's the way it all happens now.  Gone are the days when I try to impress the publisher myself, now there is a med-level addition called a literary agent.  So the process begins.  Approach an agent, submit my work and let them decide whether it is worthy of their time and effort.

Trouble is, the process is entirely subjective.  The material must "speak" to them. My story is not about an action hero or a computer whiz, or anything else instantly recognizable in today's culture.  I Just wish some of those bright- eyed deciders would talk with the eight to ten year olds I talked with before the decision is made about whether or not to publish.

And so it goes. There probably is an insightful agent-person out there who could grasp the material's possibilities.  The question is will they be found sometime soon?  My decade is moving quickly and the bucket list continues to swirl inside of me.

Self publish you suggest? Perhaps. That certainly is an option, and one that will get more popular as the years slip away.  Meanwhile the search continues and I shout loudly to the universe, "AGENT WHERE ART THOU?"

Pax Tecum