A year ago this week, a literary agent requested a partial manuscript from me. Obviously, the same literary agent did not go beyond the partial manuscript, or I'd most likely be talking about when my book would be published rather than if my book will ever be published. I remember the fluttering of my heart in my chest as I read the agent's emails and the devastation I felt when I learned that she did not want to represent me. I also remember thinking, that's okay. I'll find someone else. After all, it only takes one.
But a year has gone by, I haven't found an agent, and furthermore, any more querying for an agent is on hold. Which gets me thinking about the book (okay, let's be honest, books) I'd like to publish. When I'm back in the swing of things, should I pick up where I left off and continue to query? Or should I simply self-publish the damn stories and move on? I can't quite say at this point, but I'll at least think about the different possibilities in front of me. My hope is that thinking about my writing will lead to more writing, which will distract me from this drama-filled summer. I could use more positive distractions, I think.
But a year has gone by, I haven't found an agent, and furthermore, any more querying for an agent is on hold. Which gets me thinking about the book (okay, let's be honest, books) I'd like to publish. When I'm back in the swing of things, should I pick up where I left off and continue to query? Or should I simply self-publish the damn stories and move on? I can't quite say at this point, but I'll at least think about the different possibilities in front of me. My hope is that thinking about my writing will lead to more writing, which will distract me from this drama-filled summer. I could use more positive distractions, I think.
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