I wrote a book. Okay, so I got typist's hump, but who cares? Okay, so I got a teeny-weeny bit fatter from sitting at the computer all day and every day, but who cares? In truth, I did care about that, so I made myself go for walks on the beach and to to the dreaded gym. At least I could think about plot while I was on the treadmill.
I sent the book out to forty agents and publishers, and, boy, did that open my eyes to a brand-new world. The etiquette involved in writing the query letter, the struggle to cut my 105,000 words into a one-page-synopsis without losing my voice nearly floored me. Then reading all those agents and publishers blogs and twitter-posts that say how they receive sackfulls of submissions per week or that they'd just deleted forty-seven submissions. Forty-seven precious little babies to forty-seven writers, launched into cyberspace.
Rejections were a downward spiral for me, particularly the one that I sent out at midnight on a Sunday night and had the rejection in my in-box at eight-thirty the following morning. Don't agents sleep? When the "you've got mail" chirruped, I'd click on the message, stare out the window at the sun shining on the sea, think 'I can't look, I can't look. Please, please don't let it be...'. Then I'd close one eye and take a very brief glance, scanning for words like "regret" or "unfortunately". If they jumped out of the message, then it went slap-bang into the folder reserved for such horrors. And here's a tale: I was taking a look at that folder the other day and noticed that one of the messages was actually an acceptance. I just hadn't read it properly. It said they'd take it if I was prepared to work with their editors to make it more erotic. Whoops! Lesson number six hundred - read your emails properly. Hmmm. I might've enjoyed writing erotica. But still... and all...
After twenty rejections, two publishers came in with a "yes" on the same day. Whooop. If I'd had a vuvuzela at the time, I'd have driven the neighbours crazy. I chose one of the publishers and off we went.
Veeeerrrrrrryyyyy slowly. Who knew it would take so long?
It's two years since I finished the book, and it won't be long now. It's been through the editor's hands. The cover should come in any day. And then? Publish! Yippeeeeeeee. Just don't hold your breath.