So I’ve got two agent queries out in the wild.
Two doesn’t seem like much, but holy crap does it terrify me. You’d think that wouldn’t be the case – that I’d be over that initial trepidation you get when you email a journal a piece for the first time.
I mean, come on, I’m published now. There’s been success – small, sure – but still, dude, success. I shouldn’t be scared of others reading and judging my work. To be honest, I’m not.
At the same time, this manuscript is different. Most writers know the time we put into lengthy pieces. Shit, at 60K words, this isn’t even my longest piece. There’s something intimate about it – something raw that short and flash fiction can’t capture. You spent so much time, laid your soul bare and now it’s time for a person – a professional – to decide if they even want to read the WHOLE thing based on a small taste.
I’ll stop being flowery. Let’s just say it’s definitely got me anxious. For all the right reasons, though.
Anyway, here’s to the coming rejections (maybe the occasional validations/acceptances). I ain’t about to quit. I’ve still got a lot of material to put out there, and this writing scene I seem to have barged in on is full of remarkable, kind, and fascinating people.
That’s been my favorite part.