I’m getting close to the querying stage and am getting a little anxious. Granted, growing a super-human layer of skin to protect myself from massive rejections is pretty darn close to a superhero power. Is it as cool as x-ray vision or being able to fly?
Well, no. But I digress.
A few weeks ago my two-year-old was having a little emotional breakdown (read: temper tantrum worthy of UN intervention). I told her she needed to calm down so she could be happy again.
Amidst the rivers of tears, spit, and snot, she was able to choke out, “But I am happy!”
This was, of course, said to persuade me that she didn’t need to sit on the time-out step. And you know what? I laughed. I laughed and laughed until I had tears in my eyes.
And did she have to sit on the time-out stair? Of course not. Sometimes I’m a softy.
When it was all over and she was happily ensconced in the TV room watching The Lion King it dawned on me that very soon I’m going to have to self-promote like a two-year-old. Even when I’m cranky because my in-box is full of form rejections and I just want to curl up with a box of Kleenex I’m still going to have to send out more queries. And put on a happy face.
And then maybe I’ll find an agent who thinks I’m hilarious (or maybe just that my book is wonderful) and wants to sign me for a ten book deal.