You know how the kids ask ‘are we there yet?’ before you’ve even reached the end of the road. Well, that’s how it is between me and my email. Every 5 minutes (sometimes less…. ok, very often less) I’m checking for an email from my agent to see whether (in my wildest dreams) or whether not (as the more rational side of my brain insists will happen) an editor wants to buy my book.
And let me tell you, it’s driving me crackers. You read all about the need to be patient in this business. How you should forget about it and concentrate on your new, begging to be written, latest potential bestseller (yeah, I know, I am nothing if not an optimist). Well, all I can say is:
YOU TRY IT!
It’s impossible. I sit at my computer staring at the little green man on the bottom righthand side of my screen willing him to jump into life. And when he does, and a little box shoots up in the air telling me I have an email, the whole gamut of emotions charge through my head faster than a speeding bullet – ending in utter deflation when the email offers not the life-changing chance of publication but the life-changing chance of a penile enlargement. But, I don’t have a penis…..