Hi everyone!

Julia blogging from London today. And sitting opposite me right now is Sarah, who’s spending a few days here catching up with all things UK. This is the view from my desk. I like it!

Sunday was the best kind of winter’s day: cold, dry and blue.  And I spent much of it sitting outside a café in South London with a cold nose, a big cup of tea and my good friend, Leah Thaxton.

Leah is Publisher at Egmont Books in the UK. She’s got great taste, having acquired Andy Stanton (MR GUM), Julia Golding (THE DIAMOND OF DRURY LANE), Michael Grant (GONE) and Emily Bearn (TUMTUM AND NUTMEG): all among my favourite new children’s book writers.

In Summer ’09 Leah and I spoke together at the Bournemouth Literary Festival. And on the train home, making our way through National Rail shortbread and yet more tea, we came up with the idea of a joint enterprise: BookCamp.

We wanted to create a masterclass on writing for children and the children’s book business, with a 360 degree perspective. At Bournemouth we’d realized there’s such a hunger for advice and information about the art of writing and the business of books. So toasting each other with a plastic cup, and looking out over the Dorset coastline, we decided that we would be the people to deliver it.

BookCamp has got two main aims: to help new authors grow in their craft, and to provide a behind-the-scenes insight into the children’s book industry. 

At BookCamp events I’ll be sharing my twenty top tips on writing for children, and asking attendees a few of the questions that I ask myself when reading a manuscript. Does your main character have an emotional arc as well as an outer journey? Does your story have a focus and are the stakes being raised chapter on chapter? Is there enough conflict in your story? Does your story start in-scene with dynamism and originality? What is ‘show, don’t tell’ and why does it matter? Who is your reader and what feeling will the book leave them with? And is there a secret to writing that submission letter? Maybe – almost every author I’ve taken on had an initial approach that made me sit up and press ‘print’. We’re looking for focus, clarity and intent – and I’ll be talking through exactly what that means.

At the Greenhouse we know that getting published is the dream – the first book on the shelf of your local bookshop, the first Amazon review, the first batch of fan mail. But what actually takes place once a book has been sold? Leah’s going to answer that question. She’s going to talk about how the publishing process works from acquisition through to publication, what drives her buying decisions and how she goes about building classics of the future.

And just in case we don’t cover all bases, we’ll be taking questions from the floor about everything you’ve ever wanted to ask an agent or publisher.

To all our US readers, I regret to say that BookCamp is UK based. Our first deployment will take place at the Oxford Literary Festival on March 27th. I think we’re almost sold out but more dates in the UK will follow so keep checking the website if you fancy coming along.

And from one exciting Greenhouse development to another. This week we started our Facebook fan site! So if you’re on Facebook, click here to become a fan. We’ve got a competition to win a US proof of THE REPLACEMENT by Greenhouse author, Brenna Yovanoff (published by Razorbill in the US this Fall and Simon and Schuster in the UK in early 2011).  To enter, click on the discussion tab and tell us what you think we should speak about at upcoming conferences and writer’s events. We’re also asking writers to share their top writing tips – be it on overcoming a block, self-editing or maybe just a quote or thought that inspires you. It would be great to hear your advice.

Delighted to be guest posting on Sarah’s blog this week. Thanks Sarah! And hope to see some of our UK blog readers at a BookCamp event soon!

Agenting has a lot in common with the Olympics.  A sometimes cold and hostile environment, other times boiling heat; a lot of standing around, then you’re off – slaloming your way around poles in the fog or belting round the short track on one skate.  There’s the leaping around with shining delight at the foot of the piste – and sometimes the slow, quiet trudge back to the dressing room to take a break, nurse a wound, and have a lie down in private. But most of all there’s the constant effort and application, keeping the focus, waiting to perform the triple-toe loop at just the right moment.

Things have always moved fast in the agenting world, but after just two years in this business (as opposed to more than 25 years on the other side of the desk) I would say it’s speeded up even more in the past few months. It’s common now to receive a submission on a Friday, read it by the Monday – and hear that the writer has already received an offer of representation. There’s a lot of us out there looking for you, and of course you don’t necessarily submit to all your chosen agents at the same time.  So I’m getting down on bended knee here and asking – can you please send out all your submissions on one day? OR BETTER STILL, JUST SUBMIT EVERYTHING TO ME AND ONLY ME?

Doh, I didn’t think you’d go for that one, but worth a shot, eh? Oh yes, we love exclusives and referrals, and when we get either we move like Apolo Ohno!

At Greenhouse we generally respond quite quickly to all queries, but if we get as far as reading your full manuscript we do like to have a good think (and ideally read a manuscript more than once) before making the big commitment of representation.  And for me that means that reading once on Kindle and then printing the manuscript out, putting my feet up on the desk, grabbing my Post-It notes and pencil, and studying the work in the old-fashioned way. How would we work on this? How would I pitch it? Which editors would like it? I don’t always have this kind of leisure - if there are other agents in the picture – so I’m welded to Blackberry and Kindle at all times. Best example of this was a few weeks ago, coming home to DC from New York on the Acela train. The BB flashed to say I had a new message. I read it instantly and found it was from a writer I’d been in touch with nearly a year ago – she’d done a revision and it was attached.  Whoopee! I instantly sent it to my Kindle and had read most of the manuscript by the time I arrived at Union Station.

Several new clients have joined us recently, which is exciting – all very different, and a wide spectrum of writing, from the young and delightfully funny, to bleak and edgy young adult.  At this point I won’t mention any names because all are in different stages of revision, and I think it’s less pressured for new writers to work in peace without their name being ‘out there’ as they labour with edits. But it’s really exciting to see these debut authors coming on, enjoying their writing, and challenging themselves to develop their stories in bold new ways. They’re on their way to their first Olympics, they are medal contenders against a tough field, and it’s the work done day by day over the next weeks and months that’s going to count. Work those muscles, stretch and bend, push yourself to the limit!
The pace is hotting up in other ways too.  Just back from a great conference at lovely Asilomar, Monterey, where I made lots of new friends among both writers and faculty (see photo; I’m in yellow, pontificating as usual). Ari Lewin of Hyperion, Tracy Gates of Viking, AnneMarie Anderson of Scholastic among the publishers, and fellow agent Ken Wright of Writers House (not a bad double act!). Writers Gary Schmidt (who gave a fabulous talk), Liza Ketchum (www.lizaketchum.com) and Ellen Klages (www.ellenklages.com) added all kinds of great insights. And then, of course, there was funny Greg Pincus, social-networking expert. Oh, and lots more great people. If you were at Asilomar and are dropping into my blog, a big hello and thanks from me; do leave me a comment!

Sometimes there are big upsets at the Olympics, and the little guy can triumph unexpectedly.  Greenhouse came up from nowhere and has muscled its way into the running, so we believe in start-ups and small beginnings. In which spirit, do take a look at brand-new British indie children’s publisher Nosy Crow.  www.nosycrow.com.  Made up of four of my former London colleagues/friends, Nosy Crow has just opened its doors for business over in the UK and I wish them all the very best under their powerhouse leader, Kate Wilson.  I’m willing to bet we’ll be seeing a lot of their titles on sale in the US in the coming years, and it’s great to have a bold new independent player on the scene. Do drop in on their site; you can say I sent you!  I know they’d really appreciate your encouragement as they enter what is only their second week in business.

So now it’s full steam ahead through the spring.  Bologna is looming – both SCBWI conference and trade fair – and I’ve got a full conference schedule coming up after that: New England in May, Montana in September, then Miami, Atlanta and Seattle in the first quarter of 2011.  Do you live in any of those areas? If so, I hope to meet you.

The Olympics are tough stuff. If you want to be a medal-winning agent you need to work harder, respond faster and care one hundred per cent.  You know why? 

Because in the agenting Olympics, if you snooze, you luge*.

(*Which is, I know, exceedingly lame.)

Snow! Ice! Madness and mayhem! 

A-P-O-C-A-L-Y-P-S-E!

Welcome to the past 10 days in Washington DC/Northern Virginia. A land of snowbanks four feet high, whipping whiteout winds, strange gnarly icicles hanging like sharpened troll’s teeth. And the slow sliding trudge back and forth down skating-rink streets where only the sound of snowblowers breaks the silence.

It’s been a strange old time, I can tell you.  And even stranger if you’re a British émigré, used to cries of ARMAGEDDON over nothing more than one inch of the white stuff. Face pressed against the glass I watched as inexorably it rose – 12 inches, 20 inches, 26 inches, 32 inches; a brief respite then 11 inches more. . . .  Like a white invader – snapping the pole of our housemartin residence, trickling into the walls with ominous sibilance, sliced like a two-foot shining wedding cake along the driveway. Outside, the modest crossroads have become the mountains of the moon – our very own Alaska. And somewhere in the whiteness you’ll find Wee Man [see earlier posts], hurling his curly ice-balled self into snowdrifts, as plucky and up-for-it as a deranged (and miniature) husky.

So a lot of work has been done in the past 10 days – the rush from desk to window, Kindle to shovel, camera to pencil – as I’ve snowplowed my way through manuscript critiques for Asilomar, against-the-clock edits on several manuscripts (I never like to keep expectant authors waiting long), speech preparation, submissions, reading, finance bits and bobs, another about-to-be-confirmed German deal - and much more.  Do you want to know how hard agents work? Well, I’d better not mention the hours that are standard for me, but you can probably take a guess. Nothing comes from nothing in this business and if you want to make a mark, you can expect to work like a dog (no offence to the Wee Man).

I’ve also been thinking about communication during this period. I’m terrible at being shut in; I’m a chatty/mingling/convivial kind of person, and having my way barred by roads my Mini can’t traverse is profoundly frustrating. I get cross, I get antsy, I want to bust out.  So I’ve been profoundly grateful for the companionship of the internet and all its sociable delights and distractions.

One of the questions people always ask at conferences and in interviews is: how important is social networking, blogging, tweeting etc?  Is it vital to a new writer? Should I have a web presence? WHAT SHOULD I BE DOING AND AM I NOT DOING SOMETHING I SHOULD BE DOING AND AM I THEREFORE DOOOOOMED???

What I want to say is . . . . calm down. As Dame Julian of Norwich (an English medieval mystic lady) said, ‘All things will be well.’ And it’s true.  If you have a great concept, if you write strongly and with passion, if you have a grasp of structure, character and pace . . . . then an agent on red alert will find you, whether or not your name has ever appeared in cyberspace. It’s true that not every agent will feel a conviction about your work (unless you’re one of the few), it’s true that some will miss you because they couldn’t get there in time, but if you approach submission with thoughtful diligence you will make it, tweet or no tweet.

My personal view is that until you have a deal it doesn’t matter too much whether you have a website or not, though I know some may disagree with that and it does depend on a) how great the site is b) how gifted a self-promoter you are and c) whether you’re prepared to invest time, care and money before you have any guarantee of an actual audience. There are some benefits to NOT having an online presence before you have the deal - because post deal you can exactly target your site to the correct audience, rather than doing a tricky about shift from addressing your peer-group writers to addressing an actual readership of kids. And that’s something important to bear in mind – your readers/visitors are going to be completely different after the deal than before.  After the deal you want a colourful, fun, informative, possibly interactive site that will lure young people who’ve enjoyed your book – plus you can use it to post school visits, new books, interviews/reviews, etc etc.

I think the online mantra should always be: Who is my audience? Am I catering to that audience as well as I possibly can?

I guess I’m ambivalent about social networking.  Basically, if you’re a published author (or soon to be published), anything that builds your fanbase is a good idea and strongly recommended. And, of course, it’s good to be savvy and informed about the industry you aspire to join. However, I’m not sure there is necessarily huge pre-deal promotional worth in Facebooking, tweeting, blogging et al – it’s fun, it’s useful if you get widely picked up/followed/read, but reading posts by an aspiring author has never changed my decision about taking someone on as a client. 

For me, it all comes down to the writing because that’s where the rubber hits the road.  I want authors who first and foremost work energetically on their craft, glory in language, take joy in a fabulous story well told.  The rest – the promotional stuff – can be put in place after we get you a deal.

I always look at links that writers include in queries – they can be very interesting and revealing. In a blog-filled world I love to see writing that is fresh, funny, moving or just plain interesting; writing that complements your fiction skills and underscores just how standout you really are. Again, it wouldn’t change my decision about you, but be wary of enumerating your rejections, documenting the endless struggle – you are out there in cyberspace for posterity, and any agent or editor you query is almost certainly going to drop in if you include a link. Is this the face you most want to present?

You know what? I don’t tweet. I blog because I love to write, and because I want to tell you a bit about what lies behind Greenhouse. But everything I really want to say requires a lot more words than the hiccup of a tweet. Julia tweets useful tips and quotes from this site (look left!), but she and I have always been very clear that Greenhouse tweeting should give you inspirational good value – a word of wisdom; a writerly ‘thought for the day’.  Do you want banality from us? I think not.

This may be an unexpected thing to say in 2010, but I shall say it anyway.  Are you ready for my heresy? OK, here it is:

There are so many random words flying around cyberspace. We are in an eternal babble so loud we can hardly hear ourselves think.  There is a frenzy of chatter assaulting our inner ears. Where is the still, small voice?  Because just possibly the essence of creativity lies in that small pure sound if we can only hear it.

There are icicles outside my window. Strong, strange and mesmerizing. Drip by drip, night by frozen night, they have grown – crystalline, sharp and beautiful as a razor. It took time, it was hard to see it happen, but when I looked today they were bigger still.
How do we grow as writers? How do we become all we long to be? How do we take ourselves and our words into the world?

Could there be more in a drip than a tweet?

Weekly inspirational blog post: Not written.

Reason:  Insanely busy. See below.

So this photo: Irrelevant, but ain’t it cool!

Submissions: Cascading. More so than ever before. Will we always be open to general submissions? Yes in UK. Don’t know about USA - we’re hanging in there for now. Narrowly.

What would make that easier:  a) certain individuals not inundating me and b) knocking off the 15% (wild guess) who send completely irrelevant and wrongly targeted material that wastes ridiculous amounts of my time.

Courtesy levels: We try, we try.

Deals: Yes!  UK deal for Harriet Goodwin’s HEX FACTOR.  US deal about to be announced for . . . .  No, you’ll have to be patient.

Foreign: Yes! Great German auction for Brenna Yovanoff’s THE REPLACEMENT. Sold to Loewe Verlag.

Manuscripts: Getting through them. Kindle red hot.

Tax year: Ending soon. Just visited Joe, my number 1 dude (aka US accountant).

Number 2 dude: Eduardo, computer magician. Just set up whizzy Asus EEE netbook (14-hour battery life). Now I can work ANYWHERE (like I didn’t before???).

Number 1, 2 and 3 dudesses (female dudes): Mel, Nikki, Grace – who do money. And stuff.

Coffee:  A lot

New York: Tomorrow. SCBWI Winter Conference VIP cocktail party.

Conference: February. Asilomar. California.

Critiques: Look, I’ll get them done, OK.

Italy: March. Bologna book fair. Scheduling. Deciding who to invite to dinner.

Criteria: Cool industry people who we like.

Music currently in Mini CD player: Bach. Brandenburg Concertos.

Why: Lofty. Also soothing.

Sleep: Not enough.

Good news: Everywhere. Greenhouse is blooming!

Weather: Sunny.

Message to writers: Voice. Voice, voice, voice. And plot.

Now: Lunch.

What: Tortilla. Cheese.

Afternoon: Logging off to read and edit.

Reason: Care, precision and thoughtfulness are everything.

Finally: See you soon!

Tens of thousands were wiped out in Haiti last week, and because of that you may have missed one other quiet, dignified passing.

Miep Gies, aged 100, died on Monday in a nursing home in the Netherlands.

I have kept half an eye open for that announcement for some years – ever since I met Miep, already an elderly woman, in 1995. [I have decided to call her by her first name here because Ms Gies feels wrong, and because I think she would have comfortable with that informal friendliness.] She was part of an extraordinary period of my life, both personal and professional, and I will never forget it.

You may well know this already, but . . .

Miep Gies, along with her husband Jan, worked for Anne Frank’s father Otto, after the Frank family moved from Germany to the Netherlands in 1933 to escape Nazi persecution of the Jews. From its new base on Amsterdam’s Prinsengracht, Otto’s company – Opekta – sold pectin for jam-making, later diversifying into herbs and spices.

With the occupation of the Netherlands, life became increasingly difficult for Jews in general, and the Franks in particular. Desperate to save his company from confiscation, Otto made Opekta over to Jan Gies. But in 1942, the thing the Franks most feared finally happened – Margot, Anne’s sixteen-year-old sister - was summoned for deportation.

Now the Franks went into hiding in the famous Secret Annex behind the bookcase. And as Anne diligently, painstakingly poured out her heart to ‘Dear Kitty’, and as her famous Diary took shape over the next two years of captivity, Miep and a small group of fellow employees risked their lives to help the Franks and their friends, Fritz Pfeffer and the van Pelses.

Miep risked exposure and death on a daily basis as she struggled to bring the food, reading materials, clothes, and news that the Franks needed to survive. But she did even more than that. When the Franks were betrayed and the Annex raided on August 4, 1944, it was Miep who picked up the pages of Anne’s Diary which had been thrown on the floor and abandoned after their arrest. It was many years before she read that Diary, and she handed the pages intact to Otto Frank on his return after the war to the news of his murdered family – his girls taken by typhus in Bergen Belsen days before its liberation; his wife starved in Auschwitz.

So what is my connection to Miep Gies and the dreadful, inspiring story of Anne Frank?

In 1994, newly arrived as Editor at Macmillan Children’s Books in London, I was put in charge of publishing a new edition of the Diary which had languished untouched on the list until our red-hot, crazy-obsessed new team arrived to remake MCB. Full of fervour for the book and its power, we set to work, rejacketing it with a full-cover, haunting image of Anne Frank, and adding a searing new prologue by Rabbi Hugo Gryn, himself an Auschwitz survivor and beloved broadcaster on inter-faith issues in Britain.  Forget Hollywood celebs – I was awestruck by this man who had seen so much, suffered so much.

Lunch with Rabbi Gryn was a publishing experience of a whole new kind. What we were doing wasn’t just about sales or marketing – it was about what really mattered: justice, the truth of history, both remembering genocide and calling attention to it today. The Diary of Anne Frank had, and still has, the power to open eyes to all that.

At events in London to mark the fiftieth anniversary of the end of World War II (co-sponsored by Macmillan), I met Elfriede ‘Fritzi’ Frank, Otto’s second wife, who with her daughter Eva had lived opposite the Franks in Merwedeplain, Amsterdam, before they too had gone into hiding and followed the same route to Auschwitz. In the devastation of the camps after the Nazis fled, Otto stumbled upon Elfriede again – and Eva subsequently became, in effect, stepsister to Anne.  Eva lived not far from me in north London; we met a number of times and became quite friendly.

In the flickering candlelight of the crypt of St Paul’s Cathedral, I shed a few secret tears as we remembered the life and death of Anne Frank. At Rabbi Gryn’s invitation I was possibly the only Gentile at an event commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz – mesmerized as I heard a jack-booted Russian general tell how he had been first into the camp, and what he saw. Shutting my eyes in the darkness as hundreds of people around me chanted the Kaddish, the haunting prayer for the dead.

Then a special reception in honour of Anne Frank, where I met Buddy Elias, Anne’s much-loved cousin and only surviving relative (still living, I think, in Switzerland).

And then meeting Miep Gies. Shaking the hand of this quiet, elderly lady without whom there would have been no knowledge of Anne Frank, no Diary. A woman of such courage and forebearance. It was always said that she knew the identity of the Franks’ betrayer, but she never disclosed it or capitalized on it. Instead, every August 4 – the anniversary of the Franks’ arrest – she would stay alone in her house with the curtains drawn, remembering. And, she said, never a day went by in her subsequent life when she did not think about what had happened.

In the years that followed, I kept my connection to Anne Frank’s enduring legacy. In Amsterdam I went on a solo ‘pilgrimage’ to find Anne’s school and the family’s apartment on the Merwedeplein (now, I believe, restored and protected in perpetuity so that persecuted writers can work there). Visiting the House, I picked up The Last Seven Months of Anne Frank – published by Random House – and took it back to Macmillan, where we published it for a UK/Commonwealth audience. It was never going to sell a million, but it was important that it should be read, and kudos to Macmillan for supporting that. Several years later we published a photographic memorial to Anne’s life and times, full of newly released family pictures.

I got to know Gillian Walnes, the inestimable director of the Anne Frank Trust in London (http://www.annefrank.org.uk/), which does so much to expose and prevent persecution in all its forms today, in part through its travelling Anne Frank in the World exhibit. I met young people whose families had been slaughtered in Bosnia; elderly people who had been on the Kindertransports out of Germany during the war (often never seeing their parents again). And I met prisoners whose lives had been changed by the example of Anne Frank as they helped to host the exhibit in their jails.

Very excitingly, one of my sons – a chorister at Westminster Abbey at that time – sung at the Anne Frank Awards for Moral Courage which are given annually to young people who are shining examples of strength and bravery in adversity. 

So why is all this so important to us as writers and aspiring writers?

Well, it all comes down to that famous Diary – and to the spirit of Anne Frank, which blazed so strongly in her prose despite the privations and anxiety of her years of confinement. She was, quite simply, a great writer.  Not just a great TEENAGE writer, but a great writer. Period.  She was ruthlessly honest with herself; in her writing she spoke as she saw. She expressed herself strongly and effectively, and her zest for life shines through. Hearing a radio broadcast about the need for war diaries to be published, she set about readying her work for publication – her instincts married the commerciality of someone who saw her future as an author, with a deep belief in the integrity of what she was doing as a writer.

On my bookshelf is a copy of the Diary of Anne Frank, crudely wrapped for protection.  In the prelims are the signatures of Elfriede Frank, Eva Schloss, Buddy Elias, and Rabbi Hugo Gryn. I think I was too awestruck to ask Miep Gies for her autograph.

I knew I was touching history back in 1995 and that before long many of those names would have passed away. Indeed, Rabbi Gryn died in 1996, and Elfriede Frank in 1998.

I still receive a Christmas card every year from the management and staff of the Anne Frank House, and as I write, Otto Frank smiles over his shoulder at me from this year’s card. One day I will get in touch with the House again and see what they are doing over here in the USA.

How can we forget Anne Frank and the way her Diary affected us, touching our view of the past and our own present, and making us ask – what might we be capable of? Because of Anne’s shining spirit, acute observations and extraordinary writing skills, great humanitarian work is being done around the world, decades later, in her name.

As Anne said: ‘I want to go on living after my death! And that’s why I’m so grateful to God for having given me this gift, which I can use to develop myself and to express all that’s inside me! When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived! But, and that’s a big question, will I ever be able to write something great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer?’

Anne Frank, you were the best. And thank you, Miep Gies, for everything. We owe you.

Deep beneath Westminster, in the heart of London, is a complex of rooms that were a hidden secret for many years. They are the Cabinet War Rooms from where Winston Churchill and his team masterminded Britain’s response to the Nazi threat of World War II. From here, in austere, uncomfortable rooms full of pin-holed maps, Bakelite telephones and drab utility furniture, Britain was saved from the brink of invasion and D-Day was plotted.

Seventy years on, in a world of GPS, 24-hour news coverage, i-phone apps and Twitter, it is awe-inspiring that a vast and desperate war was fought from these drab rooms by ingenuity, intelligence and a fair bit of bluffing . One of the very first transatlantic telephones – on which Churchill spoke to Roosevelt – is here, in a cupboard disguised as a toilet. The losses on a pivotal day of the Battle of Britain are scratched on a simple chalkboard, and a sign announces that a klaxon will sound in the event of a direct bomb hit (workers down here were told the place was bomb-proof, but it absolutely wasn’t). By our standards it all looks so primitive, but what emanated from these rooms – not least some of Churchill’s most iconic speeches – was staggeringly powerful.

The spirit of one man permeates these corridors – Winston Churchill. Larger than life, working 18-hour days, puffing on his ever-present cigar, Churchill was a fascinating giant of a character. Exacting (often frighteningly so), constantly bursting with ideas, he demanded everything of himself and expected the same commitment of others. Walk through into the exhibition of his life, and your picture of this man fills out. Consistently voted the Greatest Brit Who Ever Lived (though he was half American, on his mom’s side), he was complex and flawed, brilliant and prescient, passionate and difficult – a true maverick before that word became a political gimmick. In our time of managed soundbites, ruthless control and spin, Churchill would probably never have got off political first base, but thank heaven that destiny threw him up when it did.

So what do I admire about Winston Churchill, and what made him such a brilliant war-time prime minister?

Everything he did was based on experience: As a young man, despite the aristocratic blood running through his veins, he fought in the Boer War, escaping from a train and, with a price on his head, got himself back to Britain. As an officer in the trenches in World War I he led from the front – his men admired him because he only asked them to do what he was prepared to do himself, and he was cool under fire. He didn’t just talk the talk; he’d waded through the mud with bullets blasting at him.

He was accountable and he took calculated risks: The world has always been full of pundits and pontificators, but it’s harder to find leaders who will take responsibility for huge decisions.  At a desperate moment in history, Churchill stepped up to the plate. He wasn’t always right, but he got it right more often than not.

He worked like a man possessed, but he did it HIS way: He worked in his pyjamas in bed most mornings, he took a nap every afternoon for an hour, and he was still going at 1am. He pushed himself endlessly because he knew the vital importance of what he was doing.
He had ideas – and he thought outside the envelope:  Not all his ideas came off, sometimes people laughed at him, but frequently he was right and his ideas proved pivotal. He thought in fresh ways, he never stopped imagining and looking for new ways to find an advantage over the enemy. He had great mental agility – born in an age of cavalry charges, in his later life he foresaw the dangers of nuclear proliferation.

He was a wonderful communicator: As a speaker he was sonorous, inspiring and memorable. But he was also fabulously witty. Read some of his many sayings and you’ll see what I mean – he was verbally dextrous, sharp as a knife, and very, very funny. No situation was so bad that he couldn’t illuminate it with his often acid wit. He ploughed his own linguistic furrow – no modern, sloppy vernacular for him!

He bounced back from failure: Churchill knew the ‘black dog’ of depression. Blamed for the mess of Gallipoli, he said, ‘I’m finished’. But he wasn’t – he came back to lead his country. Losing the election before VJ Day, he was devastated, but went on to have huge input into the debates of his time. He wouldn’t be put down and he wouldn’t be silenced.

He was tough, even ruthless, but always humane. He drove his team mad – but they wouldn’t have worked for anyone else. He growled and grumped; he pretended to be deaf when he didn’t want to hear something; he lit up a room.

He never stopped being himself: He always ate three substantial meals per day. He loved port and Stilton. He started a trend for bizarre fuzzy ‘romper suits’. He could be fantastically rude, but he was also endearing.

So, why I on earth am going on about Winston Churchill when I’m a children’s literary agent sitting at a desk in the USA?  Have I gone completely mad? Well, maybe – but you see, I believe the whole of life is joined up and that the things we discover about ourselves and the world permeate seamlessly into all areas of our life. And that includes writing, and the often perplexing business of books.

As we head into the (metaphorical) U-boat convoys of 2010, I salute the spirit of Winston Churchill, and I dare to put my little feet in his massive footprints. I also commend him to you. We may not be fighting a world war, but we fight other wars – often within ourselves. Wars of despondency, anxiety, defeat. Narrowness of vision. Inflexibility. Self-pity. Conformity – forgetting who we really are. Willingness to accept the second rate.  Whether we are writers, agents or publishers, Churchill challenges us to get up, get going, tough it out – and live our lives in the brightest and boldest of colours. We may not always win, we may discover harsh truths about ourselves, but we can bounce back, fighting.

Finally, there are just two more – very important - things I want to tell you about Churchill.

Married to Clementine Hozier, his life-long love, he said, ‘I lived happily ever after’. His Clemmie told him the truth, and they gave each other mutual support all their lives. Who is the colleague/animal/friend/partner/spouse who is the Clemmie in YOUR life? Who can celebrate with you, hold you up when it all goes wrong, and remind you that there are even bigger things in the world than your writing ambitions?

Churchill was a wonderful painter in oils.  He could have been a professional. When it all got too much, he took himself off with his old hat, palette and easel. Before his death he said he’d like to spend the first million years of the afterlife painting.  What fills YOU with joy and helps you keep life in perspective? In a business with few predictable outcomes, we all need that antidote.

In this first week of 2010, a new picture hangs on the Greenhouse wall – of those 1940s airmen staring at the sky. ‘Never was so much owed by so many to so few.’

So true. Rest in peace, Sir Winston. And to all of us, a courageous, productive and Stilton-filled new year.

So here it is.  The last post before Christmas, and the last of 2009. And here’s a photo taken just before the great Greenhouse UK lunch, which rounded off the year in London.  (Bookended by Sarah and Julia, see if you can spot the authors in the middle.)

With Julia nestled in her remote Undisclosed European Hideaway for the holidays, and me about to close the Greenhouse door until New Year, it’s time to think about what we did, where we are, and where we’re going.

With glass of wine in hand, carol singers outside rousingly telling of figgy puddings, and puffing on a meditative cigar (OK, I’m joking about the cigar), here’s the story of Greenhouse this year:

Around 8000 queries read (give or take a thousand or two)

Many deals done, including two major auctions and ascending for a while to Number 3 for middle-grade sales in the USA (actually we’d have been Number 1 except our ‘cumulative sales’ aren’t that high, since we’re still very young).

Our first four authors actually published – Sarwat Chadda, Harriet Goodwin, Valerie Patterson and now Alexandra Diaz who officially published on December 22.

Travels (and talking about writing) – to Florida, Bologna, Boston, Paris, Los Angeles, Vermont, San Francisco, New York – and London. And Julia travelling the length and breadth of the British Isles speaking at writers’ events.

The beginnings of foreign deals – Denmark, Russia, Hungary among them.

Three of our clients co-represented for film, by Monteiro Rose, Intellectual Property Group and ICM.  Fingers crossed for our first film deal in 2010.

Our first full year of business completed. No longer a newcomer, but an established part of the US and UK children’s books scene. And poised to apply early in 2010 to join AAR (Association of Authors’ Representatives) in the US, which requires a minimum of two years in business.

The growth of the Greenhouse family, both human and animal. New Yorker Allison Heiny joined Rights People, our foreign-rights sister company, early in 2009. Lucy and The Wee Man became Resident Hounds in April and August.  And Chippy, a Californian sea lion shot in the head by some idiot’s bullet, was adopted in September.

Phase 2 of the Greenhouse website came into being: an enhanced Author section, books database, Twitter link, and dedicated YouTube channel, on which we can actually show you our authors and books in action.

Not only surviving a grim recession, but thriving through it. Believing that keeping our high standards, making careful decisions, attacking this literary life with passion, belief and a shed-load of hard work, will get us through.

And now, our very first Greenhouse baby has arrived to bless this Christmas. Lindsey Leavitt’s new daughter, happy and healthy, arrived yesterday in our very own nativity.

As I write, there is unprecedented London snow outside my window. The last time I remember snow in Christmas week was the 1960s, and while Brits will tell you it’s a disaster, the world has fallen apart, there is something that appeals to the British spirit about the muddle and mayhem two inches of snow causes in the UK. We hark back to the Blitz, to Dunkirk, to every other victory and defeat marked by flinty-eyed resolution, a gritty prediction of disaster gratifyingly proved correct (just look at English soccer’s track record in penalty shootouts). We know what we’re doing when we’re standing in line waiting for the train that may never come. This is one of the things we’re very good at!

Somehow we will arrive at Christmas Day, and as we gather around our groaning and crowded table of eleven, I’ll raise a glass not only to the Greenhouse, but all the friends and partners Julia and I have encountered this year – whether writers, editors, publishers, agents, scouts, movie people, and all the myriad others who make this such a great business to be in.

Happy Christmas and the best of new years to everyone.

With love from

Sarah and all at the Greenhouse x

Two utterly disparate thoughts are in my head as we launch into one of the busiest weeks of the year.

The first: A gentleman whose work I recently turned down, emailed me back (very kindly) and said. ‘It’s nice to think there’s a real person out there.’ Which reminded me again how agents must often seem so distant, enigmatic – and beastly.

The second: The Wee Man is growing up.  Now, if you don’t know who on earth The Wee Man is, here’s a photo of him. This guy – our office intern - shot to international fame when he starred in his very own post [The view from under the desk] a few months ago, and many of you reference him in your emails to me.  Now seven months old and incredibly mature in his literary acumen, the WM is truly punching above his weight in the Greenhouse.

So – with the jollity of Christmas fast approaching, and with the team feeling unusually mellow, WM has come up with the idea of interviewing me. Yes, me! It’s embarrassing, and it’s taken him ages to convince me, but let’s say this is my small attempt to let you into my Secret World – and convince you I’m not a complete wart on the rear of humanity. That I am, indeed, a ‘real person’!

So, take it away Wee man . . . .

OK, boss. So let’s start at the very beginning. What is your earliest memory?

A pale pink dress that I wore for my ballet class’s Daisy Chain Dance; the excruciating embarrassment of being on stage and everyone laughing.

Snow: there was a lot more snow in Britain back in the winters of my childhood. Tracking the milkman and convincing ourselves he was a burglar.

JFK’s death: I was sick in bed and given the tiny portable black-and-white TV to entertain myself. There was only one hour of children’s programming per day, so I watched the News. Images of the assassination broke in; I climbed out of bed and padded into the living-room to tell my parents. I hadn’t a clue what the death of this man meant, but I sensed it was huge.

What turned you into a reader and what books had the greatest effect on you?

I remember sitting on the wood floor of our public library and pulling books off the shelf with a kind of awe. I always borrowed the maximum number allowable. I learned to read with MILLY MOLLY MANDY (a baby kept in a drawer – fancy!). I devoured Enid Blyton and any/all stories about ponies, rosettes and gymkhanas. I loved Willard Price’s amazing adventure series –TIGER ADVENTURE, LION ADVENTURE . . . .  I cut my teeth on commercial collectability! I also loved the British classics: THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS, TOM’S MIDNIGHT GARDEN, THE SECRET GARDEN. You could never read those enough times.

As a teenager, Tolkien knocked my socks off. THE LORD OF THE RINGS was like a holy experience (the only novel I’ve read as an adult that has come close was Donna Tartt’s SECRET HISTORY). I also spent hours - again, on the floor - diving into my father’s massive collection of war books. Learned, detailed works on the Somme, on life in the Blitz, on Special Ops in World War II.  I credit my father with my love of history and its literature, and now my sons share that.

What kind of student were you?

I was shy, teased, too fat, too willing to blush at all times, and one of the last to be chosen for sports teams. I thought I was useless and that was a self-fulfilling prophecy. When I was 16 I had an epiphany –I was good at English! It took my teachers a while to catch up with that revelation, but in my final two years at school I shone in everything literary, especially what they call ‘lit crit’. I could write for hours on line 3, stanza 2 (whatever poem), explaining why the language worked the way it did. I was also becoming a bit of a secret performer [see My life in the spotlight Part 1). One of my sweetest school memories is of singing alone with my guitar on stage in Assembly; apart from my very close friends, no one had a clue that quiet Sarah could do it and you could have heard a pin drop.

My school experiences gave me a great desire to help release people’s potential – especially that of young people. I was largely written off, my future seen as limited. In the end, my Head Teacher had to write a special letter accompanying my university application, saying they had badly underestimated me, because I got top marks in my final exams. Beating the odds, helping others to beat the odds, is a theme for me. You can’t base your life on other people’s expectations or experience of you – you just have to go out and make it happen for yourself.

What might you be doing now if you hadn’t gone into the children’s books business?

I believe I am in the perfect niche that plays to all my strengths and experience(s). However, I would also have liked to train as a coloratura soprano or continue performing as a singer-songwriter (Shawn Colvin meets Tori Amos). I love everything verbal – especially vocal performance (I read a lot aloud and used to compete in verse-speaking and drama comps), so would have enjoyed some aspects of TV presenter/journalist. I have also trained for a year in psychotherapy and that has always held a lot of interest for me – and is, in fact, very relevant to working alongside authors!

I would also enjoy anything entrepreneurial where you have to create something from nothing. For example, a fabulous chain of patisserie shops, on the French model. There’s not enough great coffee and cake in the USA!

What jobs did you do prior to running the Greenhouse and being an agent?

I started my publishing career back in the Dark Ages, as a member of Lady Collins’s religious books’ department at Collins in London. To understand this, you need to know that what is now HarperCollins used to be Sir William Collins Sons & Company Limited; and Lady Collins was married to ‘Sir Billy’ Collins.  (Harper & Row was amalgamated comparatively recently).

From there I spent 5 years with Armada, the commercial children’s paperback imprint of Fontana, which was itself the paperback side of Collins. Next came a year editing adult fiction blockbusters, then a spell freelance – doing the editorial jobs that were too demanding for inhouse staff to tackle. After that I worked for a number of years for Transworld (now part of Random House), again on children’s books. This was at a time when a lot of today’s mega-famous writers were just breaking out – Philip Pullman, Terry Pratchett, Anthony Horowitz, Jacqueline Wilson among them. I joined Macmillan in 1994 as Fiction Editor and was there until 2007, moving up the ladder to become Publishing Director of the whole editorial side. I was also on the management board, and had about 20 staff reporting to me.

My publishing career has enabled me to understand all sides of this business, which is very useful. I know how writers feel, because I’ve worked with them at the rock-face for around 30 years. I know the constraints and stresses publishers labour under. While there are moments when agents must be confrontational, I have tried to create an agency environment of partnership/collaboration where we work WITH publishers, respecting what they do.

What are the best parts of your job as Greenhouse agent – and what are the parts you find most difficult?

There is nothing in the world to beat the thrill of calling an author and telling them that yes, they WILL be published! That their life’s dream has come to pass.  Whatever the size of the deal, there are tears, disbelief, joy – and it’s my job to help them negotiate their way through all the emotions that come in this strange process.

I love the people side of this job, all the relationships, but I also love the hard-nosed thing of doing deals, making money for people. And I love strategizing and negotiating – what step should come next to get us where we want to be.  You need to be quick-thinking, charming, patient as Job, passionate, articulate, tough . . . I strive to be gracious, and to retain my integrity in all situations.

The hardest parts of the job are – making fast, good decisions about writing and writers. The volume is tremendous. And the horrid thing is, you can’t represent everyone. It’s easy for a writer to feel that getting an agent is the ultimate destination. However, it’s only the first step on a long journey, and if I don’t have a personal conviction and feel for your work, that I can really advocate for it and ultimately sell it, then it would be better for me to step aside.  Sometimes I will make mistakes, and I’m always aware of the hurt of the writer who feels rejected. It would be lovely to be able to give more feedback, but the time constraints often make this very difficult.

How quickly do you know if you have found a manuscript that is going to succeed?

I often have a real physical reaction as I discover a great story; a quietness will come over me, a prickling of the neck! I can usually tell from the first page if a writer has outstanding potential, because I will already be picking up Voice, but I have to read a lot further to see if the plotting holds water. Because I generally first-read on a Kindle, with interruptions, I like to go back and re-read on hard copy –an old-fashioned manuscript, with pencil and Post-It notes in hand. You see, editorially I am old-school, and that’s how I consider detail best.
I hate the rapid-fire pressure of the industry (particularly as more and more people become agents and there’s pressure to grab talent). It’s very rare that I read something and then instantly pick up the phone. I like to consider, make notes, come up with an editorial strategy that I can share with the writer before taking things further.  I want a story to be as good as it can be, and for any deal to be as big as it could be, and I therefore need to see if the author is on board to work with me, if that feels necessary. I would never take an author on and then suddenly announce that I had editorial suggestions – I like everything to be out in the open from the start.

What do you think is the hardest thing about being a writer?

Ann Patchett said some wonderfully apt things in today’s Washington Post book review. ‘Writing is an endless confrontation with my own lack of talent and intelligence, because if I were as smart and talented as I ought to be, I would have finished this book by now.’

I think every author feels like this at times. The black worm of self-doubt in the small hours of the night. The sense of unworthiness. The ‘imposter syndrome’ (I’m successful, but when they find out how bad I really am, I won’t be!). The fear of failure, creative dryness, paralysis, criticism. You name it, authors feel it. I like them to share that with me – the secret fears – because there are few vocations in the universe that make demands on an individual’s psyche like that of writing. You live in your head, off your wits; the famine of isolation, the feast of publicity (some unwelcome). Your vacation can be decimated, your Christmas put on hold – because an editor suddenly decides to break seven months of silence and give you a deadline of one month’s time.

Am I putting you off? I hope not, because there are glories too. But you need to be very realistic about how hard this is, what it will cost you. And you need to know that this is what you DO. This is your trade, your calling, your joy. And keep smiling and philosophical throughout. Family and friends won’t understand what you are going through, but as a Greenhouse author you have the support of writers (and agents) who understand, and that is something I don’t want us ever to lose.

What do you most enjoy about Christmas, and what gift are you most hoping to receive?

The gift will be seeing my two sons, putting my arms around them and standing there for a number of minutes. We’ll all be together in London, my extended family, and we will resume the rituals that give our particular Christmas its unique flavor (and occasional craziness). I love Christmas music, the quality of the night air, the moans at the Queen’s Speech, games of Boggle, the generations changing. The fact that I am no longer the ‘Christmas Elf’ (who sits on the stool and distributes the gifts) but have given way to the Young Pretenders. I love looking back and seeing how far we all came this year, in both inner and outward journeys. This year the Christmas Day toast to ‘absent friends’ will include all my Greenhouse friends across the world. I’m proud of us all!

Right then, Boss. Hey, it’s Sunday – should you still be at The Desk? How about giving a dog a bone and a sojourn at the mailbox?

Sure, Wee Man.  Thanks for the interview and turn off the lights on your way out?

Which is the title of one of my favourite Christmas carols, because it perfectly expresses the mysterious, ethereal beauty of falling snow. And fall it did, yesterday. Snow isn’t easy if you’re a Dachsund, so Lucy and The Wee Man [see The view from under the desk] are disappearing up to their axles every time Nature comes a’calling. And as for me – well, as you can see, there’s nothing left but a pair of warm boots.

Two years ago, newly arrived in the States, I nearly killed myself on a wintry quest to sign an author. I don’t think she knows I nearly killed myself, but the truth is I came that close as the Mini went into freefall down a steep, icy hill. Now, if the forecast even breathes the word ‘snow’ I don’t venture out without a four-wheel drive.  Look, there’s almost nothing more important to me than tracking down a great author, but . . . death? Is it feeble of me to say that’s a step too far? AM I LOSING MY AMBITION???????

Here in Book-Land, things are starting to get that mad pre-Christmas-crazy feel. Getting decisions out of people is tough, there are a million things to be done before the break (especially in Britain where lots of people take a couple of weeks off), and both agents and editors are calculating how to edit ten manuscripts/read 30 more/ get a heap of contracts through/find a great Christmas e-card (ours is going to be wonderful!), /strategise whether submissions should go out before or after/claw up to the summit of the inbox . . .  Oh, and actually find time to get any gifts so there’s something under the tree on Christmas Day.  People always ask me if ‘things wind down at this time of year’. No. They just get crazier!

I’m just back from my final New York trip of 2009. A whistlestop visit, primarily to take in two great publishing parties, both packed with agents. The first was Egmont’s celebration of its launch list. The Greenhouse loves Egmont – both US and UK sides - and we’re the best of mates with both.  There’s a special bond with Egmont US in particular – we launched at virtually the same time and we follow each other’s fortunes with interest. Doug Pocock (another British émigré), Elizabeth Law, Regina Griffin and the rest of the team have done a fabulous job of getting a company, and a publishing program, established from scratch and I’m so pleased we have a book on their second list – Alexandra Diaz’s OF ALL THE STUPID THINGS, which publishes this month. You can see a pic of Elizabeth and I, with Alexandra’s book, on our News page.

Next day downtown to join in with Deborah Brodie’s visit to Books of Wonder, probably New York’s leading indie children’s book store. Deborah is a ‘book doctor’ (www.deborahbrodie.com). By background an editor and publisher of vast experience, plus a teacher of writing, Deborah now works with individuals and groups of writers – teaching and guiding through revision, craft, and the workings of the industry.  Very interesting to join with her and her clients as BoW did a presentation on how the store works, how they’re coping with recession, what kinds of books they particularly love (they’re especially hot on classic picturebooks), and all the multitudes of author (and other events) they hold to increase the ‘book store experience’ and get both committed book buyers and passing traffic through their doors. It’s actually a very inspirational place; the staff really know what they’re talking about, they love their books, and they have a deep concern for reading and the promotion of the very best books for kids. If you live in NYC you probably go there anyway. If you don’t, but happen to visit – make sure you go there and BUY, BUY, BUY from them. That’s the only way we’re going to have thriving independent book stores in the future, and Books of Wonder is one of the very best. In fact, now I’m on a roll, here’s the web address – www.booksofwonder.com.  You can buy online from them too, so go do it! While you’re on the site, you’ll see that our very own Sarwat Chadda was hosted there a little while ago – and you can order a signed copy of his DEVIL’S KISS via the site. http://www.booksofwonder.com/events100809.asp

What did I buy in Books of Wonder?  Kathi Appelt’s THE UNDERNEATH, which I’m ashamed to say I’ve still not read, despite meeting Kathi in Vermont the past couple of summers. But first I’ve got to finish the wonderful LIPS TOUCH by Laini Taylor . . .

A short break to plunder Macy’s (with thousands of mad-eyed Brits and Russians), a change into new glam mode, and off to party with Hyperion-Disney down in the Village, at a special reception hosted by the heads of both book and motion-picture divisions.  Little black dresses abounded as the throng of literary agents, ‘studio guys from Burbank’, and a small number of Hyperion’s top authors, heard how the movie/book sides plan to be more joined up in their thinking and strategy in future. Well, we’ll wait and see what emerges from that one. 

Meanwhile it was brilliant to meet old friends and discover some new ones too – agents like George Nicholson of Sterling Lord, who was so kind to me on my very first trip to New York (as a publisher) in 2000. Linda Pratt of Sheldon Fogelman, whom I got to know at SCBWI’s Mid-Atlantic conference a couple of weeks ago. Amy Berkower of Writers House, whom I haven’t seen for several years (respect for all they’ve achieved for children/teen books over at WH over many years, not just recently). And Kristin Nelson of the Nelson Agency, whom I’d wanted to meet for ages – and who is just the nicest person. Maybe you presume agents are all tearing each others’ limbs off, like pitbulls in a pen . . . . Well, I guess we can all do some limb-tearing when it comes to getting that author we’ve set our hearts on, but we actually tend to get on very well when we meet.  And we’re quite forgiving really - of each other. (Publishers’ contracts directors are a different matter entirely. They are not forgiven).

And then on to a French bistro for a Disney dinner – and how cool was this! I sat opposite Rick Riordan, next to Jonathan Stroud and newcomer Clete Smith, with Cinda Williams Chima on the other side. And a great chat with Eoin Colfer.  You have permission to be jealous because it was JUST GREAT; I am indeed a lucky girl.

Despite having tried to keep up with emails while I was away, back Thursday afternoon to a pile of work to be done and straight back to the desk. Somewhere on the Acela train track between Washington DC and New York City my Blackberry announced that Harriet Goodwin’s EXIT 43 is longlisted (one of only 6 titles) for the Solihull Children’s Book Award – a powerful regional award in the UK.  And then the BB buzzed again - the arrival of an offer on a book. Should I be embarrassed to say that I punched the air and said YES, YES, YES! Really very loudly.

But no, I’m not in the least embarrassed. This is what I do. This is my business. And I love it.

Have fun this week. Dust off the furry boots, revise the carols, consider launching yourself into Macy’s – or Debenhams (depending on your whereabouts). And then reconsider, settle back down with a good book by the fire.  Christmas is coming!

Sarah has asked me to host this week’s blog entry and I’m taking it as an opportunity to cosmic order!

Reading Sarah’s post about the US market and what she’s looking for, it strikes me that there are some similarities with what’s going on over here in the UK.

Right now is a watershed moment for young adult fiction - the TWILIGHT effect. Based on the theory that over here we roll a bit slower than the US in terms of our big trends, we’ve been predicting a major growth in the UK YA market for quite some time. It’s now underway as more books in this age range are being sought, acquired and published by UK children’s book publishers. Even some adult publishers are starting YA imprints to capitalize on this development.

All this is hugely exciting.  A section of the market, that has for so long been resistant, has opened up. This means that the business has had its eyes trained on YA for the last 18 months or so and the middle grade – the 8-12 heartland - has been overlooked. We’re going to see opportunities opening up in this area.

The feeding frenzy for YA paranormal is still on, though there’s a little less blood in the water. But I’d love to find a 9+ adventure that brings in the darkness and threat of these great, older paranormal stories. There will be a drip-down starting soon and I’m keeping my eye on it.

Like Sarah, I’m looking for extraordinary what-if scenarios - a book with a really natty proposition. I can’t wait to read MR MUMBLES: INVISIBLE FIENDS. What if your imaginary childhood friend turns up years later and wants to kill you? And I’m loving GONE. What if, in the blink of an eye, everyone over the age of 15 disappears and no one knows why? Or what if you wake up one morning and find that a wall has been built all the way round the world, cutting your house in two and separating you from your family on the other side? Actually, I don’t think that is a book yet. I’ve just come back from a weekend in Berlin, celebrating the fall of the wall, and it struck me that this might be a powerful, resonant premise for a story.

I have had my eyes raised to the planets recently. I’ve got a theory that space is the next big thing. There’s the scent of dystopian, post-apocalyptic, end-of-days in the air. Fear of future, fear of meltdown. And the logical step from there is leaving the burned-out shell and taking to the skies. I’m looking for a space book. And I’m not looking for nifty gadgets but a big, dark story about mankind looking our greatest fears in the face.

I’m hearing a lot of editors asking for books for girls about friends, families and feelings in the Cathy Cassidy/Jacqueline Wilson vein. There’s always real hunger for new voices in that market. And also something older, and laugh-out-loud funny for young teenage girls - like the Georgia Nicholson books.

So that’s my cosmic order posted. I do need to say though, that I’m wide open to anything else: a great chapter book series for 5-7’s with a really natty concept or something as funny, offbeat and irresistible as MR GUM. People talk about hooks in books, but voice is the true hook. It’s the human contact. So I’d love a stand-alone story with a great concept and a voice that connects with me and imprints upon me - HOW I LIVE NOW, THE BOOK THIEF, THE KNIFE OF NEVER LETTING GO. Greedy, moi?

The most exciting moment in my job is when I’m reading a submission and my professional eye loses focus for a minute. I stop appraising the manuscript and for a second I’m a reader, invested in the story and asking myself ‘What is going to happen next?’ So yes, I have a list of stories I’d love to see, but really all I am looking for is that moment when the shift happens - all of a sudden I become a fan, rather than an agent. The moment that I start to see through the page and beyond the words to the scenes, characters, feelings and drama below - that’s what I’m looking for.

If you’re based in Great Britain, Ireland, Australia/New Zealand or Europe and you’ve got a children’s book to share, do submit it to me. Submissions are a treasure hunt and I can’t wait to see the next glint of jewels in the sand.

Skinny. 

What I used to be, but am no longer. Which makes my mom very happy.

My favourite jeans. Especially the new Gap cords (excellent with boots).

The cappuccino I must remember to ask for but frequently forget.

The muffin that is apparently going to reduce you rather than expand you. (What is this thing made of – flavoured air?)

The sliver of time between one incredibly hectic week and the next. In this case, a few hours, which have comprised excitements like the removal of a picked-over deer carcass from the backyard. The Greenhouse certainly lives up to its name – there’s a lot of nature, red in tooth and claw, in these parts.

But moving swiftly on from festering entrails . . .

Skinny is a big word right now, but today I want to give you another version of the word - the skinny on what kinds of manuscripts I am particularly looking for at the moment. This menu (tall, vente, grande, you might say) partly comes from my meetings with editors in New York last week, partly from what I see (or don’t see) in my own submissions inbox, and partly from my own tastes and interests.

Before I even start, I have to say that there are absolutely no rules here. I am quite capable of saying I want one thing and then taking on another – simply because the biggest driver of all is quality writing, quality voice, quality plot, quality craft. Where all those elements come together, all other considerations are overturned. The most repeated word on any publisher wish-list is this: voice. Voice, voice, voice. And when voice meets amazing storyline, my heart starts to leap, whatever age group and whatever genre.

With all this in mind, here is Sarah’s Skinny as it stands right now, looking down the barrel of the week of November 16:

I would love to find a very funny book for middle-grade boys. Funny as in clever, smart and laugh out loud (rather than simply relying on the tried-and-tested boy-shorthand of farts and slapstick, which aren’t quite enough). Basically, almost every publisher right now wishes they had WIMPY KID. But they can’t have WIMPY KID, so they’d like something equally funny, absolutely non-derivative, and great in its own right. Funny writers are very hard to find, so if you are someone, or know someone, who is great at comedy – stand up, screenwriting, who knows what – it’s a good time to test out that voice and get in touch.

I believe there is a market right now for beautifully voiced, middle-grade fiction for girls. Fiction with a classic quality; the kind of story children today will still remember when they are thirty because it somehow sums up their childhood. Writing that is wonderful to read, has longevity, and that you can’t help but pass from hand to hand. I don’t just look for ‘what’s hot today’ – I love writing that has a good story, but which feels timeless because it is beautifully delivered. This novel might also have a strong sense of family and warmth?

I would love to find a bold, brilliant, heart-stopping story set in another part of the world. What would life be like growing up on the West Bank, for example, on either side of the apartheid wall; what would friendship be like between children from radically different viewpoints? How does it feel to grow up a part of political events far outside your control – for your small life to play out against that backdrop, where violence is a daily possibility? Where maybe, in fictional terms, in story arc, that child could play a part in some small piece of change? This story is not going to grow on trees – it would need so much authenticity and I know I may never find it, but there’s no harm dreaming. Maybe you are the one person out there, with your unique background, to write this?

Next up: I think there is a shortage of really child-friendly ideas and I’d love to find a middle-grade project answering to that description. Fun, pacy, adventurous, exciting, relatable. I’m open to what form this might take, but I’m prompted by Greenhouse author Harriet Goodwin’s shortlisting in the ‘book I couldn’t put down’ category of the UK’s Blue Peter Book Awards. I love that idea – the book I couldn’t put down. What more can we ask for – the book a child just can’t bear to relinquish. Isn’t that what turned YOU into a reader?

It’s true that so far the skinny has chiefly applied to middle-grade fiction, because most editors right now are looking to redress imbalance in their lists. There has been such a boom in YA that it’s become very hard to find great middle grade. Please note – no one is saying publishers won’t buy any YA – they do and they are – but publicly they are announcing a need for middle grade, and I would love to see more because it is definitely the minority of the submissions I receive.

But if you ARE writing for teens, what might particularly leap out at me?

As I said last week, I would personally love to find a big, ambitious novel that in some way relates/addresses/comments on ideas that are around us at the moment – that casts a light on how we feel about the world right now. Maybe – rage in society; the failure of financial systems; insecurity; racial tension; fear of the future; war . . . .  This is very vague, I know, but this is a novel of depth and layers and big ideas. Yes, it might well be bleak and futuristic, but if so it has to feel really fresh because we’re starting to see a lot of fiction set in future times.

Dark fiction: It is still overwhelmingly what new writers are bringing into my inbox. Which is fine, if the storyline feels really new and special.  I have become very interested in the idea of ‘What If’ stories, and perhaps that will help you to focus your plot?  For example, what if a girl woke from a coma and realized she didn’t fit in her own body and her own life? THE ADORATION OF JENNA FOX.  What if a weird virus has made the dead en masse come back as predators? THE FOREST OF HANDS AND TEETH. What if a girl committed suicide, but before doing so sent out a box of 13 tapes to those she wanted to implicate?  THIRTEEN REASONS WHY.  WHAT IF enables you to think strange thoughts, create a weird scenario – and then solve it. WHAT IF is about mystery and suspense, and that’s something we all enjoy.

Historical fiction: People ask me constantly whether I’m interested in the historical genre. I always say I don’t assess by genre, I look at the character, voice and writing. If you can create a mysterious, mesmerizing story like Jennifer Donnelly’s A GATHERING LIGHT or the child-friendly tension and colour of Sally Gardner’s THE RED NECKLACE – then yes, I’d LOVE a historical novel, with rustling silk, suppressed emotion, but ideas that resonate in our contemporary world.

I’d also love to find a wonderful love story – authentic, moving and bold.  This might be a story of gay love, because there are very few in fiction, but many in the real world. If you want to write this, the characters will be fully realized and not token, and they will touch us for reasons other than their orientation.

Does this help? I hope so, because the skinny sliver I can give to this week’s post has expired and now it’s back to contracts, inbox and editing. But fortunately no deer carcass.

Wishing you all a productive and WHAT-IF kind of week.

I’m constantly thinking of topics I must blog about.  Sensible topics, which will be instructional, functional, knowledge-enhancing; the growing toolkit into which you will be able to delve as writers. ‘Ah, here’s just what I need,’ you’ll say – ‘a leaf blower, a power-saw.’ (You’ll understand, of course, that I’m talking in metaphors here.)

And then, just as I’m mentally constructing my utilitarian piece of prose – a cool dissection of royalty rates; an exposition on ‘out of print’ clauses; an exegesis on the perfect opening line to a novel – something will happen to throw me right off and I’ll find myself with a heart chock full of something quite different.

And that’s where I am today - this brilliant, rip-roaring, sky-blue Fall afternoon. The crisp golden leaves crunch like cookies under my boots, and shafts of lemon light strew themselves across the dust-haven of my desk. No one would be in their office right now unless they were certifiably insane. (Or a literary agent.) It’s a day to crunch sharp apples, kick acorns for the sheer hell of it, and run whooping through banks of fallen leaves, a crazy dog at your heels.

Today is a day of glory – and it’s a day of deep black. It’s a day when I put my head in my hands because of what’s been in my newspaper this week; because of the complicated, unpredictable, confusing, unfair, infuriating mess of life on earth. I could say a million things about politics, religion, money, bigotry, cruelty, stupidity and much more, but of course I won’t. Because that is not what the Greenhouse is about, and the last thing the world needs is another pundit.

So I shall say it the best way I can. Who out there can write me a novel – a big, clever, glorious, stylish novel – which will speak to me, and the millions of young people who surely must long to leap onto a life raft and paddle away to another planet? A novel with big ideas rendered in an accessible way; a layered story that asks the big questions of life and philosophy; a story that can make us laugh and cry; make us feel and sense and bear to live with the human conundrum. I know it’s out there somewhere, and I long to represent it in all its daring beauty.

In Britain this week a girl went to prison because she smashed into, and killed, another girl – while texting. But hey, the dead girl had been texting too. (If only good and bad, right and wrong, were as clear as we used to find them.) In the USA thirteen people died in a storm of bullets – and the ramifications will be huge. Afghanistan is a giant, whopping muddle. The massive new house down the road, a masterpiece of ostentation, is weed strewn and apparently vacant –can it really have been repossessed just months after being occupied? And so the list of dreary confusion, the secret stories of shame and loneliness and failure, continues.

The world is awash with blathering blogs, advice, chatter, criticism – and a fair bit of vile, spewing, self-righteous hatred.

So what might we writers do? The pen is mightier than the sword. Skip that – the world of ideas is mightier than the darkness.  Compassion, creativity, insight are our candlelight. Because the Word is - has always has been - the light in that darkness.

So write.

This photograph of the Golden Gate Bridge, taken on the way down from the Marin Headland, was judged last week in my very first photographic competition. Judged - and found wanting. The verdict? Nearly Good Enough But Not Quite. Which is a generous way of saying – it was bumped off in the first round. Reason being, ‘there wasn’t enough definition because of the mist’.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE WASN’T ENOUGH DEFINITION? THE MIST WAS THE WHOLE POINT OF THE SHOT!  WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU, JUDGE? ARE YOU A COMPLETE FOOL??????

You see, I too am no stranger to rejection or the outrage that comes with it, that someone clearly incompetent has sat in judgement over one’s work. I’d have done a lot better with a different shot, I think; that one of the flower. Or with a different judge. Preferably one who isn’t an utter moron.

So if you are a rejected author I don’t blame you for muttering under your breath or sticking pins into a voodoo doll that looks just like me – it’s all part of the process, and at least I can empathize because I too have a passion, photography, in which I truly wish to excel. Of course I’m delighted for those people who win the prizes. It’s just annoying that their shots aren’t nearly as good as mine . . . . . . . . . .

Submissions that I read tend to fall into three categories.  The first two are relatively easy to deal with: 1) those I feel confident are not for me and 2) those with which I wholeheartedly fall in love. Category 3) - those I have to think very hard about - is hardest by far, often requiring a lot of a) scrutinizing b) agonizing c) toing and froing d) experimental revising. Some of these submissions work out famously in the end – either for me or another agent. Others don’t, for a myriad of reasons. These are the Nearly But Not Quites, and if I don’t manage to work through the problems and ultimately take them on, I always remember them and look on Publishers Marketplace to see if they’ve sold. That has happened rarely, but you can be sure I’d be beating my head on the wall to have missed out (competitive, moi? Is the Pope a Catholic?).

What are the hallmarks of a NBNQ? Tricky, because they’re different every time and that’s what makes the decision so tough. But here are a few of the dilemmas I’ve faced in manuscripts, and what I’ve done about them:

Issue: A storyline that has an unusually commercial and conceptual edge to it, but where the actual plotting is so haywire that I can’t see a logical way to resolve the problems. Action: Suggest a brainstorm with the author to see if fresh thinking can ensue. That can lead to radical deconstruction/reconstruction of the story, but that might be just the thing that’s needed to preserve the great concept; working it through in a completely different way.

Issue: A premise that is quirky and really original, but aimed at what I feel is the wrong age group. A YA novel or a middle-grade novel? Such a vital decision in how the whole thing is skewed and whether or not it finds a market.  Action:  Gently introduce the possibility that the story would be better re-framed for the different age group (NB: This advice preferably administered with some form of sedative.)

Issue: An interesting and original premise and a plot that hangs together. But the voice just falls short, which means the whole thing doesn’t quite hit that sweet spot where I can be confident an editor will lose their heart to it. Action: Tricky one, this, because issues of voice can be so intangible – it’s like grabbing a cloud. Identify the heart of the story where the emotional impact lies, then suggest moments where a new and significant focus might fall. This may help the writer to lift those key scenes or bits of dialogue into something fresh and memorable.

Issue:  Amazing writing, lyrical and original. But plot bursting with characters and incident in a way that overloads a story that would be more impactful if more spare. Action:  Suggest taking out a whole character and strand; so basically, strip it down. (Again, Prozac is good to have on hand. But hey, this one – from my publishing days - ultimately went on to be shortlisted for a major literary award so je ne regrette rien . . . )

Issue: Fresh writing, fresh concept, an essence of real charm. But grammar, punctuation and phrasing chaotic and reading the manuscript is like being in a car crash. Action:  Roll up the sleeves, put on the apron, get out the heavy-lifting gear and dig in, sentence by sentence, because this one is going to require a LOT of involvement – and tact. But you know what? It could be worth it for all concerned, in the long run.

Issue: There’s something really interesting here – good tone, an arresting idea, something I’ve not seen before. But the major potential of this premise is somehow being missed; it’s all too shallow and many obvious moments (to me) are being missed. Action: provide some notes that are primarily in the form of questions, so that issues underlying the story are opened right up for further thought.  OK, everyone laughed when I talked at SCBWI LA about ‘squeezing the juice from the fruit’, but any and every story will be way more absorbing if you get out that juicer and SQUEEZE THE JUICE FROM THE FRUIT. In other words, know your backstory; become intimate with your characters; think through the implications of every single aspect of your story. Is it funny? Then it can be funnier. Is it emotionally powerful? Then make me reach for the Kleenex.

Issue:  Good writing, well put together story, all very sound. But just not . . . captivating? A bit derivative of other stories around? Action: Another very tough one, because captivating is what it has to be. If I have a particular reason for needing this one to work, I again might suggest a brainstorm to see if there are more layers, ideas, elements that could be added to increase the depth and breadth of the story. It’s not a question of ‘Is this good enough?’ It has to be truly standout.

So, those are a few everyday dilemmas from the editorial ‘to do’ list. How deliciously simple it would be if manuscripts could be tested with a piece of litmus paper. Red – it’s a winner. Blue – back off. But there’s only the patient trial and error, the test it and see, the have another go, the maybe it will – of editorial work and consideration. And all I can really do is read like a READER, not just like an AGENT. Read so I let the story and the writing speak to my heart, not just to what I think the market might want right now. Read so I hear it and feel it. And that’s when I make decisions I know I can live with, whatever the outcome.

Nearly But Not Quite. It hurts, doesn’t it. But there’s a way forward from being a NBNQ – and that’s the slow, steady learning and development. If not this photograph then maybe another. If not this story then maybe the next.

I shall probably never be an award-winning photographer, but I might just possibly get an Honourable Mention in a little local competition one day. Then I’ll aim higher. And dare to dream. How about you?

It’s been a cross week (and more) in the books industry. Wal-Mart, Amazon and Target slashing prices in a bestsellers war (with potentially dire effects on independents who can’t drop prices like that), and now Sears joining in to reward customers who buy from those companies. Accusations at Frankfurt of advance-fixing among European publishers. Heated debates on whether or not STITCHES is truly a young-adult title and therefore worthy of its National Book Award finalist status.

Plus, of course, my very own bit of bad temper reserved for US publishers who refuse to recognize territorial exclusivity in the countries that make up the Commonwealth – a vital part of any potential deal for a UK house (for example, if you can’t grant the UK exclusivity in India, they may well not buy the book, thus losing a deal for the author). Sorry, but it makes me mad when you redraw the globe in a way that contravenes my authors’ best interests!

Yes, as always this crazy industry exists on the hard and barren rock face between the toughest of commercial interests and the most sensitive kind of creativity. As an agent I’ve got to have two distinct lobes in my brain – one that is gimlet-eyed, flinty, pusillanimous (don’t you love that word?) . . . . in a courteous kind of way. And one that is attuned to the slightest nuance of a sentence, that revels in imagery, and that sees and hears the spark distinguishing the very best writing from the dull and plodding. I’ve got to think of ways we could turn a plot inside out so that it works better, suggest a new strand that would leave the reader with a fresh perception of humanity, and come up with a title that will make a weary editor’s hand reach for your manuscript as it piles off the printer. But I’ve also got to dig in, arms crossed, sturdy as the Rock of Gibraltar, for the contractual points that really, really matter. Welcome to my world – metaphor meets high-discount royalty rates!

So why the choccy muffins and candles? Because you know what . . . . it’s a pretty good life and I’ve got things to celebrate. It was two years ago - on October 13, 2007 - that I got on the plane from London and arrived (distinctly tremulous, but concealing it well) in Washington DC.  I had two suitcases - and an absolute certainty that this was a defining moment in my life and nothing would ever be the same again. And hey, I was right!

In the last two years the Greenhouse has taken off and established itself on both the US and UK scene. Two years of making a few people very, very happy (by signing them up and selling their work) and many people really quite miserable (by rejecting them). The second part is always horrid and can’t be avoided. But it’s also been two years of getting to know writers in a whole new way, grappling with plot, rediscovering the essence of story, speaking to groups large and small around the USA, and becoming recognized as an agency that only sends out quality work. What an adventure it has been!

We are constantly growing and morphing and I hope you’re enjoying the revamped website. We’re pretty excited about it – the depth and range of information we’re aiming to provide, the publicity opportunities that shine a light on our authors, as well as useful titbits (we hope) for all you new writers out there. We’ve already got plans for where we go from here, but meanwhile I hope you’ve spotted the new News page which highlights just how much is going on all the time at Greenhouse.

Look, let’s forget the grumpiness and think mellow thoughts. It is what it is. The business will change and develop over the coming years in ways large and small, and many of them will be outside our control and as unstoppable as a glacier. But good stories will continue, whether told around the fireside in a forest, or read on the 7:00 am commuter train from Union Square, DC to Penn Street, New York, or from Basingstoke to London. And that’s where we come in – you writing, and us helping to get you to story-thirsty people.

Talking of ‘thirsty’, it’s that time of day. How about we all get a cup of tea and relax with a muffin. After all, there’s nothing like a bit of choccy cake to cheer one up. And let’s face it, we deserve it! 

There are so many things that I don’t know. For example, anything about chemistry. Or how someone could shoot a sea lion for fun. Or what would be the best solution in the Middle East. Or where the last twenty years just went.
So it’s reassuring to realize that there are some things I DO know for sure. And here are a few of them – in no particular order, because isn’t life just like that?

1 I should never, ever take a vacation.  I absolutely can’t spare the time. I say this because I got back a week ago from my first real vacation since arriving in the USA in 2007. San Francisco was everything I had hoped and more – but let’s just say the tsunami warning sign on the ‘17 Mile Drive’ perfectly summed up the state of my inbox when I got back.

2 I must always remember to take vacations. You can’t stay alert and inspired and insightful in this business without occasionally wrenching your eyes away, watching pelicans swooping over a lake, and thinking other thoughts. An exhausted agent is a no-good agent!

3 Sometimes the things you know are contradictions. See above.

4 The Greenhouse website is . . . somewhat exciting.  If you’ve been a regular visitor to this site, you’ll have spotted our new dedicated Youtube channel and redeveloped Author section. Do have a look around. Our aim is to keep it current, fresh and relevant, and we see it as the heart of how we project Greenhouse to the writing world. We’re working on a News page right now, and already fantasizing about Phase 3 of the site. We intend to keep it growing and developing, doing our best to inform aspiring writers and promote our clients. Virtually all our authors now have interviews posted on the site, and our aim is for all to have Youtube trailers in due course.

5 Like Jude Law (interviewed during his run as Hamlet), we don’t believe in reviews. Oh, except when they are good.  Hooray for Val Patterson’s in Booklist: ‘In her memorable first-person voice, filled with the minute observations of a young artist, Cyan sketches out with believable detail the beautiful setting, the unspoken family tension, and her fragile recovery of hope after loss.’ Have you read THE OTHER SIDE OF BLUE?  It’s just out, and you can read Val’s interview in our Author section.

6 You just can’t have too many animals.  We have adopted a 319-pound sea lion called Chippy who was nursed back to health at the Sea Mammal Center on the Marin Headlands. He had been shot and somehow managed to swim up a river and climb on to a police car. Fortunately Chippy hasn’t actually moved in with us. Somewhere out there in the wild ocean, he is honking and playing in the surf. Go, Chippy, go!

7 You can’t help but be excited by film stuff.  My August trip to LA was productive.  We now have leading Hollywood co-agents on board for two of our authors, and a third is on the way. We don’t work with one agency on film rights – we have close contacts with a small number who get first look at our projects. What happens is that if we sell film/TV rights, the Greenhouse commission is split with the co-agent and our film attorney, who thrashes out the deal.  Which all means you get great representation, minus the stress. 

8 We love new Greenhouse clients.  Welcome to Winifred Conkling from Northern Virginia, whose fictionalized version of a true story – working title, SYLVIA AND AKI – has sold to Tricycle Press. The book will be based on the story of two girls – one Hispanic, one Japanese – whose lives briefly intertwined during World War II, when a landmark lawsuit made waves in the California school system. This is a different kind of book for Greenhouse, but a story we agreed needed to be told.

9 It is hard to imagine a more extraordinary sight than the Golden Gate Bridge emerging from a pillow of cloud. Ethereal, mysterious – and a photographer’s paradise. Hence my 350 pix.

10 Everyone needs encouragement, even literary agents (believe it or not). Lots of you are encouragers.  But my personal award for Encourager in Chief goes to lovely Ellen Braaf – SCBWI Regional Adviser for the Mid-Atlantic region. Ellen welcomed me to this area two years ago, she has helped me in so many ways, and she never fails to encourage me every time we meet. Like last Friday when Valerie Patterson and I spoke at the Northern Virginia Writers group (affiliated to the Writers’ Center in Bethesda). It is hard to imagine how many literary people Ellen must have quietly encouraged over the years.

11 Never do Pilates on a mat next to a girl less than half your age, who is part prima ballerina and part gazelle. I know because I have to do it. She is gorgeous, she is supple and toned, she is immaculate and lycra-clad, and she never has a hair out of place. As ‘some people’ collapse groaning, she is smiling sweetly and doing every torturous move to perfection. I may have to thump her in her ‘core’.

12 Death is the new black. It’s amazing how many submissions I’m seeing that involve Death. Hot dead guys. Girls who become dead. Books of the dead. Death is alive (so to speak) and attends my high school. Whole families wiped out. It’s carnage out here in the submissions, I tell you. We’re perennially fascinated and repelled by death; or maybe it’s where we explore when we recognize the vampire and shapeshifter glut.

13 I love New York.  And I’m off there Wednesday through Friday. Seeing lots of editors, lunching with Donna Bray of Balzer & Bray; dining with author Teresa Harris (TREASURE IN THE PAST TENSE; Clarion 2010); meeting up with Sarwat Chadda of DEVIL’S KISS, who’s been touring the US for 2 weeks courtesy of his publisher, Hyperion. The tour ends with a launch party at Books of Wonder in New York on Thursday.

14 Titles are extremely important.  The power of a good title cannot be overstated. It can almost sell a book for you.  Titles tend either to come instantly and easily - or they are incredibly hard to get right.  Brenna Yovanoff’s novel FE will now be titled THE REPLACEMENT in the USA (Simon & Schuster are still deliberating the final title in the UK/Commonwealth). FE was an intriguing title but it was ambiguous (it was actually the chemical symbol for iron, not any permutation of fey or fae etc). THE REPLACEMENT is clear and strong, perfectly sums up the plot, is easier to pitch both at home and abroad, and allows for a market of both girls and boys.

15 City Lights in San Francisco’s North Beach is a fantastic book store. Small and idiosyncratic, full of nooks and crannies, it has lots of political works, belles lettres and history – and a nice little children’s section. Around the corner is Vesuvio, the bar frequented by Jack Kerouac and Dylan Thomas.  Go and buy a book and breathe in that delectable indie booky aroma.

16 Sometimes you just have to laugh.  Which is what I thought when I saw the four submission emails from one writer – all with attachments [we don’t now accept attachments].  ‘I am not breaking your submission guidelines; I am reinterpreting them for our possible mutual benefit.’ Thank you, sir, for making me sit back in my seat and laugh. (But you can probably imagine what happened next . . . )

17 10:00 PM is too late to be sitting at my desk.  Good night and see you soon!