Good morning, Readers!
I'm using this image from unsplash.com, because it took me too damned long to realise that it was an aerial photo, and not some abstract sci fi idea.
I am currently in the midst of querying agents. I'm hoping to find some representation for Outworlder, whose title I still despise, despite being told it wasn't terrible. I have, in the last fortnight, queried ten agents. This is, I've been told, about right. I feel like it's excessive, but a source I trust told me it wasn't so... ten agents it is.
Anyway, there are two agents in particular I have queried that I'm genuinely hoping might take a nibble, then like my stuff enough to go all in. No names. I'm just really hoping. Which, of course, means that it won't ever go like that. I'm basing this off past experience.
I'm trying all the same.
For the record, I'm targeting agents that are also alright with horror, as much of my writing, while not actually horror, does tend to use some fairly dark imagery. Plus, you know, maybe I might get into writing horror at one point. It is the only SFF genre I haven't written yet.
Querying agents is its own terrible privilege. Part of it is, of course, of my own making. Typos that I realise too late (oops and also [expletives censored]), the waiting, the hoping, the inevitable disappointment... It's also a lot of fighting the urge to continually check me email for responses. Honestly, I'm torturing myself with the checking, and it's not like they've even had time to read the emails I've sent. The earliest response I can hope for is not until just after my birthday next month. Yet... here I am, chewing my nails as I continually refresh my inbox.
I do this to myself.
Patience is a virtue. I am not a virtuous person. I'm trying to be.
That is where I'm at currently. If I seem to be distracted, that would be why. I'm spending too much of my energy hoping for an answer before I've any right to expect one.
So, I have been, in the past couple of weeks, in my own special hell of my own making. With luck, this time around, something will come of it.
Now, I have to go distract myself with French lessons.
Ciao!
Anyway, there are two agents in particular I have queried that I'm genuinely hoping might take a nibble, then like my stuff enough to go all in. No names. I'm just really hoping. Which, of course, means that it won't ever go like that. I'm basing this off past experience.
I'm trying all the same.
For the record, I'm targeting agents that are also alright with horror, as much of my writing, while not actually horror, does tend to use some fairly dark imagery. Plus, you know, maybe I might get into writing horror at one point. It is the only SFF genre I haven't written yet.
Querying agents is its own terrible privilege. Part of it is, of course, of my own making. Typos that I realise too late (oops and also [expletives censored]), the waiting, the hoping, the inevitable disappointment... It's also a lot of fighting the urge to continually check me email for responses. Honestly, I'm torturing myself with the checking, and it's not like they've even had time to read the emails I've sent. The earliest response I can hope for is not until just after my birthday next month. Yet... here I am, chewing my nails as I continually refresh my inbox.
I do this to myself.
Patience is a virtue. I am not a virtuous person. I'm trying to be.
That is where I'm at currently. If I seem to be distracted, that would be why. I'm spending too much of my energy hoping for an answer before I've any right to expect one.
So, I have been, in the past couple of weeks, in my own special hell of my own making. With luck, this time around, something will come of it.
Now, I have to go distract myself with French lessons.
Ciao!
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