Eileen Ormsby went to her first literary speed date to pitch her chick lit manuscript. She got lucky – very lucky – but in an entirely unexpected way.
Literary Speed Dating (Members: $20)’ the ad said. I had visions of a quirky hipster event with earnest singles clutching tomes by David Foster Wallace or Kafka as conversational props with potential beaux. Not really my thing, but the price was right and there wasn’t anything else in the Australian Society of Authors’ course calendar that was both within my budget and vaguely related to my writing. At least I would have an opportunity to say things like ‘“Consider the Lobster” is a splendid anthology but “Infinite Jest” is where postmodern irony is at’.