The Magic Ends. Or at Least Pauses.

In what I think was my first post, I mentioned the not-so-small fact that an agent was currently interested in my novel and had requested pages.  While the result might not be something I'm eager to announce across the internet world, I like closure.

So.

She wrote back last night and very politely rejected my novel.

Yep.  So that's the end of that.  Honestly, if you want to know, I'm not crushed.  Or discouraged.  Or upset. Or devastated.  Mostly when I opened that email, what I felt was relief.

A) Because I'd been waiting almost two months and was itching for an answer of some kind.
B) Because this whole time I've been questioning whether I'm really ready to be published.

I'm in college.  I have a work study job and I'm in intramurals and I want to be in another play and I'm part of two or three different clubs.  Plus, I just took an extended weekend off for a trip to D.C. (March for Life HOLLA) and I'm planning on spending spring break in Montana.  And during the summer I juggle two jobs, one full time and one part time (= roughly 50 hours a week).  Oh.  Also there's this thing called a social life that I like to pretend I have.

So, while it would have been superthrillingmindblowinglyamazing if this agent had wanted to represent me, it's also okay.  I have school, and family, and friends, and my faith, and a life, and writing is sort of on the side right now.

Yeah.  That's pretty much how it stands.  And I still have some things in the air: the ABNA contest, and a few queries to agents still floating around out there, but for now, when I'm barely able to write anything (not to mention work on my story) every day, it's definitely for the best how this turned out.

I'm stoked that she requested pages at all.  I mean, that's still awesome!  And in no way am I discouraged about my writing or my novel.  I might put actively trying to get it published on the back burner for a bit, while I focus on other things, but I know I'm on the right path (SHE REQUESTED PAGES!!!) and I know that I'll eventually find the right place for my novel.

*dramatic music*

Amazon Breakthrough Novel Contest

Yeah, so I got an email about an hour ago reminding me about this Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award whatchamathingy, and I did what I do every year.

Squinted through the rules.

Checked the word count on my novel.

Read the fine print.

Considered it.

Shrugged and thought, "Next year I'll remember this earlier and give it a shot."

Except this time, when I was about to hit the delete button to send the email into my junk folder, I hesitated.  A series of thoughts nagged at the back of my mind.  My novel fits within the word count.  It probably could use a touch up, but heck, I submitted it to an agent per her request and it's probably as polished as it will ever be.  I even have a pitch written.  So.  Why not submit?

My sensible mind smirked and said, "Hm, well let's see, maybe because you FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS A MERE TWO MINUTES AGO?"

I don't like listening to my sensible mind.

Contest: entered.

Obligatory Boring First Post (and also, November is over!)

Sing ye choirs of angels.

December is here.  December and hot chocolate and Christmas and Christmas break and, oh, let's just smash it all together and make a list of why December 1st is a good thing.

Finals are almost here and thus almost over.  Christmas break is close!  Reuniting with friends and family around the corner!  Icicles.  Snow.  Sledding.  Cold air freezing your lungs.  Candy canes.  Baking Christmas cookies.  Getting to drive again!  Driving with the windows down, the heat cranked up, and the radio blasting.  Going on walks through a frozen, sleeping marsh.  Wrapping presents, tape sticking to your fingers.    Advent candles.  Christmas shopping.  Ice skating and watching the sunset paint the sky in a clash of pastel and neon.  Curling up with a book on the couch (A COUCH!).  Waking up at 5:55, making a hazelnut latte, and writing the morning out of the night, the darkness away from the light.  Coziness.  Cards in the mail.  Coats and scarves and boots.  Coffee.

I could really, really, really go on for a long time, but I shall resist.  Just basically, December is here and despite being welcomed by 60 degree weather and incredible humidity here in Kansas, it is distinctly different from yesterday, which was November.  Really, we all should pity November, a month whose only bright spot is the turkey and cranberry sauce at nearly the end of it.  Thanksgiving always feels like a sort of "We've almost survived November!  Just a few days left!  You can do it!" or a pity party, because there's absolutely nothing else about November that we can find to appreciate.

Of course, November also is National Novel Writing Month and was fairly significant for me this year, because (for the third year running) I completed my 50,000 words and especially because (for the first time ever) I was happy with my completed project (begun: four years ago.  Rewritten: seven times.  Finished: three times.).  Happy enough to wait two weeks (yeah... I finished my 50k word count pretty early), edit like crazy, and send it in to an agent.

Oh yeah.

AndthentwodayslatersherequestedmymanuscriptandI'msortofsuperexcitedBUTIKNOWITDOESN'TMEANANYTHING.... yet.

So, yeah, I'm happy that it's December.