I'm trying to put my finger on the feeling that swept over me as I typed in agents web addresses of from the 2009 Writer's Market.It's enthralling to dream about a book being bound in a cover with beautiful artwork, a title I chose and my name underscoring it all. The ink fresh on the pages. Lines of people at book signings wanting my autograph. I've been asked before. It's a real thrill.
The books I've been published in have all been anthologies. Unless you count the one I printed off for my dad three years ago.
I've been mentioned in the front pages of a few other books...it's nice.
But to be categorized with the great literary minds of the centuries. To pen a book from beginning to end, to rethink, revise and rewrite. To birth a best seller must be the most amazing feeling in the world.
I would like to make a mark in the world. Maybe get critiqued, maybe make a best sellers list. Maybe even go to New York city and brush elbows with the brilliant minds of our age. It all felt so plausible. when I was typing in the names of agents. I only need one.
Yeah...It could happen. I love this part of the process, where anything I can dream of is possible. The most amazing literary future still lies out there waiting just for me, untainted by doubt, untainted by reality, untainted by the inevitable rejections I know await me.
Today, I'm a potentially powerful voice.
Today I'm full of promise and hope.
Today, I am not yet known as good or bad.
Today while I am yet fearless, I prepare my query letters and line up the agents I hope will be interested enough to at least take a look. Through out the late fall and winter months I will begin my tentative reaching out to see what becomes of it all.
And I really want it to last longer than fifteen minutes.
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