There were no literary agents under thirty-five without waistcoats at The London Book Fair.
There were no publishers under thirty-five without waistcoats and glasses at The London Book Fair.
There was a very dishy science-fiction writer (closer to forty though) without a waistcoat and glasses with whom I had a very nice chat. (Which luckily didn’t involve any techno-babble about space ships and fantasy worlds – otherwise I would have shot him.)
However, stupidly, I forgot to get his name.
So Mr T is safe again. No doubt he is counting his blessings.
Okay, I am just joking about the waistcoats. Literary agents don’t always wear them. Just some of the time. It’s called style.
Apparently.