I read somewhere that, early last century, people's ideal afternoon involved reading a new novel. Now, in the age of free information, when I ask people 'Do you read?,' the most common answer I get is, 'Yeah, emails.'

The curious thing about the book industry nowadays is that a lot of best-sellers aren't literary talents. They are authors who amassed a rediculous following from a blog or something.

Knowing this, I went about trying to connect with people who might like to read my work and, over time, I amassed an audience: my mum and, sometimes, my girlfriend, Jay. And you ;). The readership justified printing a book which, despite the thin-ish spine, took me approximately 100000 hours to complete.

While I believed I'd done a good job at attracting at least two readers, I knew I could reach even more people with the support of a publisher. So, after months of deliberating, I swallowed the fear of rejection and marched into a tiny publishing house in Fremantle.

I thought I was reasonable to assume that I wasn’t just any hack begging for them to read my manuscript and that, in turn, they might be more readily willing to have a conversation.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Part 2 is next week.

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