Day Zero.
I've been dreading this. It's one thing to jump into a social network site and start posting anywhere on anything, like a cat chasing a ball of light (think Puss in Boots - the movie), and build up a list of friends and followers.
It's quite another to emerge from anonymity - but not obscurity - and write about the background for the transition.
My manuscript is finally finished. It's still a WIP - I'm completely OCD prone when it comes to 'just checking' if there isn't a better word, a better phrase, a better something - but the final scene and the epilogue are now words on a page as opposed to figments of my imagination.
Not only that, I'm now the proud recipient of enough rejection slips that I can wallpaper my blog without needing any other decoration. However. Amongst all those resounding email clunks in my inbox notifying me of 'Unfortunately, no. . .', there have been a few 'Please send' requests as well.
Now you might see where the OCD behaviour is paralysing. It took me three days to send out the first request. It took me longer for the second. I've put off the others (these were requests for exclusives), which is just as well, because one agent asked for the full manuscript.
I dread opening my finished version of partial submissions in case I find yet another comma which has jumped spaces and landed exactly where I didn't want it to be.
Which is marginally better than looking at my query and wondering why one version of it works for one agent, a different version for someone else, and both versions send the majority running in the opposite direction.
I have at least another month of procrastination before I hear back from any of the agents that requested. Needless to say I'll be torturing my manuscript. Not to mention myself.
Easier to start on the second book, I think.
I've been dreading this. It's one thing to jump into a social network site and start posting anywhere on anything, like a cat chasing a ball of light (think Puss in Boots - the movie), and build up a list of friends and followers.
It's quite another to emerge from anonymity - but not obscurity - and write about the background for the transition.
My manuscript is finally finished. It's still a WIP - I'm completely OCD prone when it comes to 'just checking' if there isn't a better word, a better phrase, a better something - but the final scene and the epilogue are now words on a page as opposed to figments of my imagination.
Not only that, I'm now the proud recipient of enough rejection slips that I can wallpaper my blog without needing any other decoration. However. Amongst all those resounding email clunks in my inbox notifying me of 'Unfortunately, no. . .', there have been a few 'Please send' requests as well.
Now you might see where the OCD behaviour is paralysing. It took me three days to send out the first request. It took me longer for the second. I've put off the others (these were requests for exclusives), which is just as well, because one agent asked for the full manuscript.
I dread opening my finished version of partial submissions in case I find yet another comma which has jumped spaces and landed exactly where I didn't want it to be.
Which is marginally better than looking at my query and wondering why one version of it works for one agent, a different version for someone else, and both versions send the majority running in the opposite direction.
I have at least another month of procrastination before I hear back from any of the agents that requested. Needless to say I'll be torturing my manuscript. Not to mention myself.
Easier to start on the second book, I think.
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