8 Months

Eight months ago I sat down to type out what would be the first rough chapter of a hundred and twenty page manuscript, and since then not much has changed.  I worked diligently through the classes I took, both on non-fiction writing and poetry, regardless of the harsh times that came between now and then.  Now it is finished, the final revisions have been made, edited, and stamped with approval from my editor and I'm at a loss at how to proceed.

Somewhat prematurely I sent off copies of my query letter to several literary agents, and already I've received my first rejection letter.  Thankfully it was written in a polite and supportive tone.  As of now I'm waiting to hear back from five different agencies, all hand picked from my writers market for their interest in memoirs, acceptance of simultaneous submissions, and ease of contact (most of them accept online submissions).  I have a sucidal urge to send a letter to every agency in the book, one I must quell if I hope to ever get published.  I have to take this, as I have been through this whole process, one step at a time.

It's been such a quiet day today, I've neither gone anywhere nor had company.  The phone has hardly rung all day.  I spent most of it sitting around reflecting and watching old episodes of X-Files on netflix instant viewing.  But oh, how I've wanted that phone to ring... to share this moment with someone other than my dutiful yet accepting mother.  She gave me congratulations and then was off to enjoy her evening alone, something I'd normally enjoy myself, but not tonight... I want company, I want the walls to vibrate with our revelries and the night to sing my praises.  But here I am, sitting alone typing away at a blog that likely no one will read. 

My book will be different, it WILL be published, and consequently WILL be read.  I'm ready for people to see now, to know my life as only I could tell it.  So many nights I sat here working on that damned book, writing, revising, waiting to hear back from my editor, always working on it or thinking of working on it.  It's done now, and all I can do is wait. tick tock tick tock...