Was chatting on the phone yesterday with my agent, the estimable Brady, and his assistant, James. They were providing feedback on the manuscript of what I hope will become my second novel. Like most writers, I guess, I have received literally hundreds of rejection emails with pro forma best wishes and anodyne phrases like, “just wasn’t for me,” or “I couldn’t connect with the main character” (ouch!). While you have to be professional, take these things on the chin, and move on, part of me is desperate to know why it just wasn’t for her, or why he couldn’t connect with the main character. In short, I was desperate for feedback. If you don’t get it, how can you get better? So when professionals like Brady and James take the time to read something I’ve written, think about it hard, and then give me the results of that thinking, I gorge on it like manna from heaven. Ninety percent of what they had to say will undoubtedly make for a better book and I can’t wait to apply it to a new draft. Just between thee and me, that’s probably true of the remaining 10 percent also, but I’m not telling them that!
As always after calls like this, I wandered about the house on an energized cloud nine, going over what had been said and thinking about the most elegant way to execute. But then, after a while, my steps grew leaden and I found myself sitting on the front porch staring mindlessly into space. Brady’s and James’s enthusiasm had made it real. I had written a second book. There is a decent chance that I will sell a second book. I might actually become, you know, a “proper” writer. I felt like the dog that had caught the car. I want this. I’ve wanted this for years. But now that I’ve got it, can I handle it? Am I good enough to handle it? What if I’m not?
Fortunately, tea arrived and cloud nine returned. Either I can, or I can’t. Only the future will tell, so why worry? It’s not like I’m going to stop writing, whatever happens. And in the meantime, having sunk my teeth into a shiny piece of chrome, I’m going to hang on for all I’m worth.