So I have finished all the edits my agent requested. She reviewed the edits and gave it a thumbs up. A little more effort to fix the formatting, chapter cuts and...I sent it back to her.
Now my baby that I've spent untold hours sweating, crying, and laughing over is going out on submission come Monday. It is out of my hands, and I must trust another to finish the journey.
I feel almost numb. I say almost because a certain bubble of giddiness will, now and then, rise to the surface, and I'll have to pinch myself. Of course this is the do or die bit of the process. To sell or not to sell...and all that. But oddly, it feels small compared to the daunting task of getting an agent. Getting an agent made everything real. You are a writer, not just some bored mom escaping reality and, let's face it, parental duties by banging away on the computer.
I refuse to let fear enter into the equation. So I oscillate between numb -holding my breath until I hear word, and being really damn excited.
Do I glow from this? Let me go check in a mirror...
7 hours ago