Hello all. If you're reading this, you'll probably end up feeling like you've wasted a bit of time doing it. I'm sorry for that. I need to vent a little bit to cyberspace about how horrible it is waiting to hear back from a publisher about my book-- MY BABY-- when I know that by 5.30pm on Thursday, they will have decided whether or not I am worthy.
So, I am officially a desperate email checker who spends all day online, constantly checking into gmail. (Because, yes, I have set up a writing-stuff exclusive gmail acount that does not have a reference to pop culture in it. Apparently that is the way to be taken seriously in the big person world.) So far, I haven't heard anything yet. I'm hoping its because the really cool people at A and U are really busy being excited about some awesome book (Kate Morton's new one maybe, even I would be excited about that) to get to a computer. Maybe someone has my manuscript in their hand as I type this. They've taken it home to tell their teenage kid that they think my book might change their life? (Oh if only!)
This afternoon, in a bid to get away from the computer, I spent about an hour monologuing to my mother about how bored I was. That's how I get when I am left home all day to watch Gilmore Girls on DVD. Well. She neglected to bring me sushi. I was desperate. She wanted to throttle me. I wanted to throttle me. I tortured the dog by hiding his toys and trying to teach him to dance. I am cruel.
Evidently I am also masochistic because I just thought about checking my email again. (Sorry to JS for using the word you hate so much.)
I'm trying to think about options. Should I work on THE COMPOUND some more before I send it anywhere else? Should I ask someone to be my editor/ agent? (I'm thinking someone I know who won't exploit me... but who do I know who would be able to advise me? I'll do some research.)
Or should I start a new project that sort of walked into my head last night? Harry Potter walked into JKR's head on a train... or so I hear. Maybe that's a good sign. But I don't really believe in signs...
then again I am desperate. Crazy. Desperate. Both. Whatever.