The Soul of a HomeSeptember 12, 2010
The door was answered by a harassed woman who asked me to step inside quickly as she was on teh phone. Pushed into her drawing room, to my delight I was followed by two Siamese chocolate-point cats still in the flush of youth. I spoke to them, made a high-pitched sound and licked my lips. By the time the woman, a well-known literary agent, had finished her complicated argument with another publisher, they had competed for the best place on my lap. The loser had flung its front paws up on my chest and was looking longingly into my eyes.
‘How did you manage that?’ asked the agent accusingly. ‘They don’t like people. They’re a mistake. Apart from screaming for food, they ignore me, and the more visitors try to make a fush of them, the less they want to know. They’re weird – and you must be, too, attracting them like that. But then I’ve never understood you or your kind of books.”
Image Credit: Karin Sauer