For months now I’ve been a caged animal. My mind has been free to explore the borderless regions of my imagination – writing – and settling back into the reality of mundane routine leaves me a little twitchy. What do you mean I have to do the laundry? the dishes? cook dinner for who? Ah yes, the mortgage.. that’s why I need to remember to run around with my camera equipment and not confine myself to the fervent scribbling into my little black books. But it is done… for now!
The edit of my first novel is finished. She is complete, and I’m crazy in love with her. Now, I am consumed with the task of securing a literary agent. One who will love her (and me) with the skill set of a world-wide uber-agent. Go big or go home, right? I’ve centered him out and I’m compiling the query as we speak. Perhaps tomorrow I will actually hit enter on the email that will send the first five pages of my novel to the inbox of the uber-agent in New York. My novel in his inbox… can you imagine? <gasp> Even that is more excitement than I can handle. What if he requests the entire manuscript?
…better get writing book two!