“Luck favors the prepared.”
-Edna Mode, The Incredibles

When this book gets picked up by an agent, and when it gets published, it won’t be because of luck.  It will be as a result of what is now ten years of work.  TEN.  2013 makes it so. 

Still, I’m hoping for some “third time’s the charm” magic today, because I’ve just submitted to my third agent.  This third agent was actually the first person I had interest in, but for various reasons, I submitted elsewhere first.  As of this morning, the third query is away.  So now I get to feel sick until either the agent does or does not reply.

Last night, I described to my husband what this process feels like to me.  I feel like a little boat on a very big sea.  Everything is moving, and I’m bobbing, and my stomach is swooping, and I’m going to barf everywhere.  I do actually feel physically ill about it, a lot of the time, though it’s an emotional-physical feeling.  Psychic nausea.  Blergh.  I imagine what it will be like when the book is actually out there, and I doubt that this feeling will change much.  Maybe it will even get worse.  I was looking at goodreads.com last night, reading reviews of comp titles, and man.  People are brutal.  I don’t think I will ever read a review.  I don’t think I’d survive it well.  I don’t know how the very famous, very public people handle it.  No wonder so many celebrities crack.