I am shaking like a leaf because at 11:20AM I have an appointment with an esteemed New York literary agent to pitch my novel. You know!?! - the novel I have been pouring my heart and soul into for the past many weeks and months and years. (Okay, a little over a year. But it seems like FOREVER.)
It's all good. The most I can hope for is that, upon hearing my story line, she will ask to see part or all of the finished novel. Worst case scenario, she will say it isn't her cup of tea, it isn't something she thinks she can sell, and send me on my way. Which might not mean my book actually sucks (although naturally I will think so) but that it isn't right for HER. Regardless, I am looking forward to the learning experience. This might be my FIRST pitch appointment, but it definitely won't be my LAST.
I have spent every hour that I wasn't teaching or cooking or cleaning (or sleeping) this week working on the novel revision/trying to find that perfect opening sentence/paring down my synopsis/working on my pitch for tomorrow. And, honestly, I don't think I really believed I was a writer until THIS WEEK. But you know what? I AM A WRITER.
What they say is true: you can't edit a blank page. When you have a story idea, the thing to do is write write write as fast as you can, and THEN go back and make it pretty.
In the beginning, my main character was SO MUCH LIKE ME, and the story line was SO DARK. But the more I revise, the more my main character takes on a life of her own, and the more humorous her story becomes. I like that. The fact of the matter is that writing this novel has been cathartic for me. I have purged a lot of poison, I have learned about the craft of writing. Even if it ends up nowhere, it will have served its purpose.
And my next book will be better. Oh, yes, you'd better believe there WILL be a next book.
And another. And another. I have so many ideas, there is a definite risk I might burst.
My biggest regret in life isn't marrying the wrong person, or choosing a career that didn't pay big bucks, or eating too much junk food. My biggest regret is that I didn't start writing fiction thirty years ago.
But the good news is that it isn't too late.
Wish me luck tomorrow...