Are you scraping the bottom of the question barrel here or what

I've never been to a writers' conference, but hear that the triple compulsions at many are getting published, getting drunk, and getting laid. Thus, a sweet young thing, perhaps fortified by a few shots of booze, might approach Norman Mailer and say, "Ooh, Mr. Mailer, you're so handsome." After they have sex, Mailer will, the sweet young thing hopes, read her manuscript and recommend it to the editor-in-chief at Random House or a stellar literary agent like Ms. Snark.

Is there a smidgeon of truth to these rumors?


There's a reason Miss Snark does not hand out business cards at writing conferences. This is it.

If you want Norman Mailer to discover you, the best thing to do is write to him from your prison cell.

For an explanation of why that is "funny" go here.


occasional_anonymous said...

An endorsement by Norman Mailer might not get you into Random House, but it can get you into lulu.


Oh, wait, ANYONE can get into lulu...

Marissa Doyle said...

Hey, this sounds like a scene from Ms. Richie's next blockbuster from Harper, in which our heroine Chloe takes on the New York publishing establishment.

Either that, or I'm going to the wrong writers' conferences. :)

harridan said...

Well, the getting drunk portion isn't out of the question, but the rest???????

Uh no, doesn't happen that way.

ssas said...

We're writers. We drink. But we're much too self-absorbed and depressed for sex.

I'm a newbie around here but I'm already compulsively checking your postings, as if I don't have the Great American Novel to write or something.

Joan Reeves said...

I didn't need the link to why that was "funny," but I found myself interested in what happened to Abbott. Here's a link if anyone else is interested. Some people are too damaged to be saved.

Bonnie S. Calhoun said...

That snarkling must be mixing up writer's conferences with SCREENwriter's conferences.

I have a friend in Hollywood who woops it up a lot.


Stephen D. Rogers said...

I'm just back from a writing conference. The bartender sat there reading.

JN said...

Not only did I not get the book deal but he was lousy in bed.