So after a string of posts where I complained that I hadn’t got up and done something I finally managed to get up and do it yesterday. My first novel; Situation One, is now winging its way to the literary agency Darley Anderson for their perusal. I hope that they can spot something worthwhile in it, that someone there is on the same wavelength as me and that they can find it a market. It shouldn’t be hard, it’s the best book I’ve ever written.
I don’t know where the push to actually send it off came from, I’ve been deliberating over minuscule changes to the dynamic of sentences for weeks now, and then worrying that my cover letter and synopsis didn’t come off right and in the end I just accepted that I’d written them, and there was a reason that I had written what I had and that was what should go off to the agents so that’s what has gone off. Once that envelope was sealed I was sure of what I was doing, I had the words ‘just do it already’ cycling round my head, those were my Grandma’s words of advice when months ago I griped to her that it was really hard work writing a book. I wish I could call her up and let her know that it’s done.
The woman in the post office didn’t even congratulate me on my achievement, she just bunged a stamp on it and sent it off to the mystical world of the post office backroom where incredible things we could never even fathom occur. I asked for a proof of posting receipt just so she would know it was a big deal. Afterwards my girlfriend asked me how I felt.
‘I feel like it has taken a weight off, it’s out of my hands now’
‘That’s good’ she said, ‘are you crying?’
Just for the record, I wasn’t crying. I had something in my eye, I think it was pride.
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