Well, I finally managed to finish my first book and get up enough nerve to send it out to an agent. Unfortunately, a miracle did not occur and it was politely rejected.
With a postcard.
Okay, I've passed that hurdle. I've had a rejection and I didn't die. Now that wasn't so bad. I did flinch though.
Now I know I'm really an optimist. Only an optimist could have believed that the first agent they submitted to would scoop up their material. Realizing that has really made me feel much better. It's also made me realize that perhaps my expectations could be a bit lofty, not unreachable, but definitely on the high side.
Well, I've already sent it out to another agent and I'm working on the third query when I'm feeling like flogging myself. But I'm not letting it totally consume me. I have been writing on another book. I've actually gotten pretty far into said other book while I was screwing up my courage to send off Book One.
I must thank the writers at The Midnight Hour and The Midnight Moon Cafe for their comments on submitting and perserverance. They really helped me get the ball rolling with this one. Plus, they have really good books.
Whenever I was wondering what in the world I was doing trying to write a book someone on one of those sites would write about writing, submitting, rejections, or just life as a writer and I could relate. I realized as I read their thoughts and ideas that I didn't have to have multiple college degrees or even one in English to be a writer. I just needed the passion to write, and I have that in spades.
I don't know if I'll ever be a "published" author, but I will continue to write anyway because I need to. The voices in my head don't let me sleep if I don't write. Though sometimes they don't let me sleep even if I do. But I love to write and will write on scraps of paper if that's all I have handy when the muse strikes.