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It’s been a week since I sent out my first round of queries. I’m glad I was brave enough to do it. This waiting bit though, this is the part that’s driving me crazy (or more crazy).

My phone chirps at me when I get new mail. Well, it vibrates when it’s on that setting, but at home, it chirps. Every time, my heart beats faster in my chest, my mouth goes dry and I bit the left side of my lower lip. The skin there is starting to get a little tender. Panic, fear, excitement all battle for dominance in my chest and then I open my inbox to find…

Nothing important. Though, I can still save on a Father’s Day present from Bass Pro. My Dad hunts and fishes among other outdoor activities. I’ve bought him stuff before, though money’s tight right now, so I’ll call him Sunday and I’ll just get him and Mom something awesome for Christmas.

Anyway, I go through this every time I check my email. Then the first slivers of doubt creep in. My query sucks. My novel isn’t good enough. The voice isn’t natural enough. My character is one-dimensional. Okay, maybe not that last one. She has her weaknesses. She has a deep well of guilt to tap into.

Of course I manage to talk myself down. I imagine an agent, maybe even two, mulling my query over in their minds. They’re thinking about it. They’re interested. Can they sell it? Can they sell me? They’re debating with themselves. Staying up nights, trying to make a decision. I know, I know. It’s unlikely, but it makes me feel better.

It doesn’t help that I’m going for urban fantasy. It’s a hard field to break into, and I’ll have to query more agents than the people selling pretty things for book club reading. I’m okay with that. I trust my character. I trust my ability to write and my ability to jump into the great unknown. Oh, I’m pretty good at that. I am outside my comfort zone now, but I know that if just one person says yes I’ll win them over completely. So, I’ll just keep plugging away until I get what I want. That’s all I can do.


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