It's November and I still haven't heard from the publishers. This time last year I was coming to the conclusion that trying to find an agent was not the best idea and that maybe I should just strike out for a publishing firm and to hell with the middle man. I still think it was the best move actually.
The fact that they've had my book now for eleven months fills me with neither optimism nor fear. I've reached such a point of indifference that I hardly even think about it anymore.
Whereas once I ran to the mailbox like a hyperactive, underfed Doberman whenever I heard the postman's car puttering down the drive, or scrambled to the computer everytime I returned from where ever I had been; nowadays I send the kids out for the mail and my Facebook notices attract more attention than any unknown email address that just might be the publishing firm.
However, that said, after such a long wait I think rejection will probably tell on me more than usual.
I like to put on a hard man act and say things like, "Well, I'll just send it off again. No big deal…"
However, I know I'll be gutted if rejection is the reward for my patience and fidelity.
As a kid, (which means last week in real terms) I would seek portents and signs in everything I did when waiting for news or a possible treat.
"If I eat these cornflakes in under five minutes I'll get the Action Man Scorpion tank", (Which I didn't by the way).
"If I manage to pee into the toilet without splashing the seat I won't get in trouble for forgetting my Maths homework", (Which I invariably did because Mr. Foss did not like me at all).
"If I can castrate this dingo with only a pencil sharpener, a bag of lemon drops and a ball of string I'll be allowed to work in Disneyland… etc. etc. etc."
Yeah, I know the last one was silly but you get the idea.
However, sadly, I haven't the imagination for such reliance on blind luck to organise my day anymore. I suppose it's a good thing that I have finally taken responsibility for my actions instead of leaving it all for fate to decide but it's nowhere near as interesting.
What am I wibbling on about?
Oh yeah, it's eleven months and I'm kinda hoping to hear something positive soon… That was it.