I’ve done it.
Like a warrior, a trojan (one of the happy-go-lucky writerly type of trojans), a fearless (if slightly delusional) fighter, I have finished my first novel. Not only that, I’ve written my first synopsis (which was tougher than the novel!) and perhaps most pertinently; I’ve made my first submissions to the lucky agents I have decided I would like to read my book. Lucky lucky them. Very lucky…. L u c…
What if I have totally wasted their time? What if they read it and can’t understand why I would so much as darken their door with ill-chosen words formed into cliché riddled sentences that eventually go on to form a poor excuse for a book. Must. Remain. Positive.
I had wondered, over the last few weeks, whether I would bother submitting this one at all. I think I know that really it’s not good enough, the story that is. Not strong enough. But when I typed those incredible words ‘The End’, I was so overcome with elation, pride and adrenaline fuelled part by delusion and part by caffeine, that I decided I would submit. Because, what do I have to lose? My dignity went with my first child, my self-respect with my second. It’s all good; and what’s the worst that can happen? That they hold my submission up as an example of how not to do it? Well, yes. Yes, that would be bad, but I can always feign ignorance its mine should they do that. The worse really, is that they don’t like it. That they don’t request a full. That I don’t get representation from it. So, I’m no worse off right!?!
And the best? Well of course, the best is I get an agent, followed swiftly by a publisher, followed swiftly by the arrival of my first novel on the shelves of my local bookshops… or Tesco… or kindle download. Given that the majority of these things are slim to never gonna happen, I have decided my objective with this submission is a request, from one agent, for a full Manuscript. If that happens, I know I’m heading roughly in the right direction. If it doesn’t, I shall just have to write better next time.
Speaking of next time, there is a story beginning to take hold. I feel a new notebook coming on. Roll on September…