Submission Apocalypse: Day 4
I meant to take it easy today. I really did. I was planning to play on my Sims 2, relax and unwind. Most importantly, not write because I feel like I needed a break. First though, I had to check my email. Cause, you know, I'm psychotic. There were three from literary agencies--two declines and one from an agency that I sent via snail mail. I thought it was odd...but, could it be? Could it be a request to see more?
Long story short, it was, it was! Another partial request (brief synopsis and the first 50 pages) from Agent Z, who happens to be MAJOR! I mean, MAJOR! as in representing some MAJOR! clients and part of a MAJOR! literary agency. MAJOR! as in I thought I was pissing into wind by sending her a query. MAJOR! I tell you! Which sent me into a MAJOR! panic attack. I am still hyperventilating.
I soooo want to impress Agent Z (did I mention she's MAJOR!?) that I scrambled to check over my first 50 pages. Unsurprisingly, there were things to fix. There are always things I need to fix. I have a problem with leaving well enough alone.
So, that partial has been zipped into an email bag and sent. Oh, gosh! I don't know how I'm going to sleep. The rejection--if it comes--is going to be so painful, I can already tell. Oh, gosh, I think I need a drink. Or a dozen.
Long story short, it was, it was! Another partial request (brief synopsis and the first 50 pages) from Agent Z, who happens to be MAJOR! I mean, MAJOR! as in representing some MAJOR! clients and part of a MAJOR! literary agency. MAJOR! as in I thought I was pissing into wind by sending her a query. MAJOR! I tell you! Which sent me into a MAJOR! panic attack. I am still hyperventilating.
I soooo want to impress Agent Z (did I mention she's MAJOR!?) that I scrambled to check over my first 50 pages. Unsurprisingly, there were things to fix. There are always things I need to fix. I have a problem with leaving well enough alone.
So, that partial has been zipped into an email bag and sent. Oh, gosh! I don't know how I'm going to sleep. The rejection--if it comes--is going to be so painful, I can already tell. Oh, gosh, I think I need a drink. Or a dozen.