Villanova or: How I Became a Former Professional Literary Agent

About this book

ExcerptIt is my third morning at the annual conference of the Sagebrush Romance and Western Writers Association of the American West (the SRWWAAW). I am installed at one of several tiny round tables in a beige antechamber of the first floor of the Oklahoma City Embassy Suites. This is the one-on-one room, just a few steps up the wheelchair ramp from the hotel’s high glass atrium, with its twinkly canned music and breakfast buffet. I am seated across from a writer named Maria Passel, who is 32 and has a glass eye. She lost it, she explains, when the left side of her face was mauled by a bear.