Seth Fishman's Blog, page 34

Me, Myself

There’s a painfully obvious fact about your first posting: no one is reading. Writers of fiction, you merry crew, feel much the same way as you put pen to paper or finger to key. I know I do. But perhaps someone will look, after a while, and I don’t want to be rude.  So, my name is Seth, and I’m a writer and literary agent.  I’m from Midland, Texas (think Friday Night Lights) and live in Jersey City, NJ, commuting daily to Midtown East, the lesser of the Midtowns. I’m married to a wonderful woman, and yes, I like the two cats we own.  The names of all three of the above will come, if things go well.

Do you remember Baby Jessica?

Some of you might not, but when I was young, a little girl fell down an eight-inch-wide well, twenty two feet, and was stuck there for 58 hours before she was rescued. That happened in my hometown, though I hear the entire country was riveted. I remember cars honking when she was free. I remember the bandages on her face. I remember seeing her later that year in a restaurant. I remember her parents divorce. And when I sat down to write my novel, The Well’s End, I couldn’t help but remember her.  

So here’s what I’m thinking: my book comes out in a year(ish), and I have this oddly unique perspective. I’m an agent, and a writer, and even though I don’t represent myself (that’d be weird), I do understand a hunk of what’s going on with my book, and in the industry in general.  I figure I can update that which goes on with my book from a writer and agent perspective, all within limits to what’s appropriate, but maybe give a fun, informative angle on the industry.  

Though if that becomes boring, I reserve the right to post pictures of me being too pleased with a fire made of charcoal that have been soaked in lighter fluid.

I’ll begin next time with the beginning.  Until then, pleasure meeting you.