Dogs are creatures of superior intelligence. This is why they write their books with urine. They don't need publishers. They don't need agents. All they need is a tree.
My former agent has decided to pursue other interests.
She'd only submitted my novel to half a dozen publishing houses, and the rejections were actually encouraging. Interesting book, well written. Just not right for us.
That's finished, now. Mainstream publishers won't even look at an unagented manuscript. So I've got to find another agent to represent me, a task only slightly more difficult than splitting the atom or (for me) losing 20 pounds.
Agents are in demand. They pick and choose. They say, Send a query. This means, Summarize your 95,000 word manuscript in 25 words or less. Preferably less. So you send them a query. Maybe they'll reply, and maybe they won't. And of course, some of them are crooks. There are special web sites dedicated to telling aspiring authors which are which.
So that's what I'm doing at the moment.
Gotta cut this short. Bao needs to go out and add another chapter to his book. At the moment, he's got more readers than I do!