Q. Like many middle-aged, under-employed people, I have finally got round to finishing my novel. Being too self-regarding to vanity-publish and not, as some West Country nobody, seeing much other hope of publication, I scoured around for friends from university who in intervening decades have laboured their way to the top of the publishing world. These agreed with alacrity to look at my efforts: then nothing, and reminder emails to no effect. What can I do to get an answer without ruining any hope my work has of seeing shiny covers?
M.C., by email
A. It is a pretty safe bet that none of these people have read one line of your novel. They would have been meaning to for weeks but too great is the deluge that swamps all people in paid work these days. There is also the factor that the succès d’estime is a thing of the past. The publisher now needs to make money from your book. Maybe yours could make them money but they will never get around to reading it unless you invoke the vital tool of presenteeism. Fear of actually having lunch with you, without having read your novel, is the only card you can now play. Invite them to lunch in the best restaurant you can afford near their place of work. Give them short notice or they will cancel nearer the time. They will probably cancel anyway but keep up the invitations and eventually you may get somewhere as they will gird themselves to pick up the novel on the morning of your lunch and may even find they have a liking for it.
Q. An old friend’s new husband is having a 70th birthday and has not invited me.
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