I have to say, I’m quite impressed — I’ve already heard back from two agents regarding the query I just sent out last week. Both were passes, of course, but I couldn’t imagine it would really be that simple. If it is that simple, we’d have to rent a much bigger space for my bookstore.
All the same, it’s disappointing. Of course it is. There’s always that deluded, excited and naive part of me that thinks, “Hey! Look, I’m really special! This book is different! I’m better!” Whether or not that’s true remains to be seen. My boyfriend reminds me to just keep at it, as do my family and friends — and I will. I couldn’t stop if I tried. But I would like to take just a small moment to feel the tiny pin-prick pangs of rejection…
And — okay. Felt.
So the weekend was good. I spent Saturday with the BF at a friend’s barbeque, and it couldn’t have been a more beautiful day. I didn’t take as many pictures as I wanted — and I still don’t have them uploaded — but I did get a few. I’m scaring myself with how many pictures I’ve been taking lately… and all of random things. I am my mother’s daughter — the photographer’s daughter.
I had to get up early today for a dentist appointment, and now I’m at the office. I realized with a jolt of surprise how much I have in common with my dental hygienist! She just got back from a vacation in the Outer Banks, which isn’t exactly unusual around here — it’s the destination du jour for Maryland residents not wanting to head to Ocean City for the millionth time. But she’s also into the “Twilight” books and loves Edward Cullen (who doesn’t?) — and scrapbooks. And does all sorts of fun things. So that was awesome and made the entire scraping-teeth-pushing-around-your-gold-crown experience slightly better.
Now I’m back at the desk, thinking about passwords. The millions and millions of numbers I have to remember at any given time — at both my jobs, in my personal life, around the house. Wherever. Social security numbers, e-mail passwords, door code passwords, voicemail keys, PIN numbers, log-on IDs… And a million more. But that’s a separate blog in and of itself!
Time for lunch, I think!
Now, as people often ask me, does that mean it’s any good? I don’t know. It’s definitely a rough draft — emphasis on the rough — but I know I have something here. It just feels good to finish a book . . . there’s nothing quite like wrapping up a crazed, elaborate tale and writing “the end” evenly at the bottom. I’ve now finished three novels in the past year and feel sincerely accomplished. Now, if only I could track down a literary agent interested in representing a silly 23-year-old chick lit writer in D.C. How many of us could there possibly be, right? I know, a million. But it’s okay — I’ll surge proudly onward and outward! As James Morrison would say, “I’m not lost — just undiscovered.”
write meg! 