Read her blog at http://philangelus.wordpress.com/
How I got my agent was kind of cool. I had been struggling to play a really difficult piece on my violin for about an hour one Sunday night when I was stopped by a pounding on the door. I answered, violin in hand, to see my next-door neighbor, who introduced himself as a literary agent."I know," I said, because it's a really old apartment building and I'd been able to hear some of his phone conversations through the thin walls.
"Have you ever thought of writing a novel?" he said. "If you quit playing that thing and write one, I'll represent you."
I said, "I know a good thing when I hear one!" and the guy's mouth twitched as he looked at my violin, but I didn't ask what he meant.
Besides, I'd been about to give up hope that my plan would work. I'd already spent the past three years living next door to Janet Reid, Kristin Nelson and Rachelle Gardner, and all it had gotten me were a few calls to the police, angry messages on my answering machine and a picture of a violin smashed in pieces and repaired with duct tape pinned to my door with a six-inch stiletto heel.