After days of research, drafting query letters, and sweating over a plot synopsis, I emailed seven agents on Thursday morning and tried to put it out of my mind because I knew it could be a long wait. One agent said she would reply within three weeks. Another said it would probably be 9-12 weeks. The rest fell somewhere in between or simply stated that they’d reply at some point if they were interested, but would not reply if they didn’t like it.

I went to the gym and lifted weights just to try to get my mind off of it, because I was driving myself crazy. I just could not stop thinking about it.

When I came home, I had a reply from one agent waiting in my inbox. He said he’d be happy to look over my book and requested the first 100 pages for his “prompt review.”

I sat here in stunned silence, just staring at the screen, not believing it… Minutes passed. Then I chuckled. Then I giggled. Then I brayed laughter like a jack ass and whooped and hollered. Then I calmed down and sent the man what he wanted.

I haven’t heard back from him yet, but I’m not worried. I’m trying my best to keep from getting my hopes up, because it may yet amount to nothing. He could easily come back and say he’s not interested. But he could come back and want the rest of it!

I guess I’ll wait a week, and if he hasn’t emailed me back by then, I’ll send a polite note to make sure he received the 100 pages. I don’t want to bug him and piss him off, but I would like to know for sure that he has it.

I always try to have a back up plan. In this case, goal was publication of my book, and the Sobol Award was Plan A. Plan B involved doing things the hard way. I intended to gradually research book agents, learn about query letters, and be ready to seek representation sometime in July if the Sobol contest fell though at that time. Plan C involved doing things the expensive way: Self-publication.

So Plan A went tits-up about seven months earlier than anticipated, and I’ve been scrambling to put together Plan B on an accelerated schedule. What’s my hurry? I want to do something proactive before I get disgusted, disillusioned, and put the dream down again. I have to do something to keep the fires burning.

In the past couple days I’ve not exercised; I’ve neglected my websites; I’ve skimped on my class preparation, and I’ve barely slept, but I’ve drafted a query letter and plot synopsis, had them proofread, and compiled a list of agencies I want to contact. Today I emailed a query to seven different agencies. I’ll send out a few more this weekend, and then I guess I’ll get buried in the sequel to keep my mind off the clock and calendar while I wait and hope to hear back from some one.

I don’t like Plan B very much, but I guess there’s not much else I can do. I could quit, but I have too much riding on this to stop now. This is my dream, and I know I have to work if I want it to come true. But the clock is ticking, even if I choose to ignore it. I’m going to the gym now, because I that’s part of my plan too. By the end of this year I’m going to be in interviews and on TV for my book, or I’m going back to the Rangers. Either way, I need to be in better shape.

I endeavor to keep this blog clean, but I have something I just have to say.

FUCK!

FUCK!

FUCK!

FUCK!

The goddamned Sobol contest, the one that has had me all in a tizzy, imagining dreams of success, publication, and grandeur, has been CANCELLED due to insufficient submissions.

I’m not going to let it get me down. I’ll start researching agents and publishers tomorrow, so I can do this shit the old-fashioned way, but dammit all to hell. I’m so pissed I can barely sit still.

I’m going to go out on the back porch and cuss a streak until I get it out of my system. I need to destroy something.