Wobbly

Jeez, it’s crazy how much emotions can change over the course of a day.  First, I realized that I never revealed the new title for the book when announcing completion of the new query letter.  The Agora Files.  I like it.  There might be some necessary changes to the manuscript to make it fit with the title a bit more, but I’m still not sure how entirely needed they actually are.  However, I really like the play on words and was really happy when it finally hit me.  Let’s hope that the new title gives my query the boost it needs to get put to the top of the pile, instead of the top of the rejection list.

And with that, I’ve already begun receiving rejections on the new query letter.  Now, these rejections are coming from queries with the less striking title of The Final Run of Cyrus Rhodes, a title I thought was a bit better than Run! but still not all that enticing, so I’m hoping that’s why I’m seeing such a quick turnaround on those.  All the same, it’s just how things go.  Rejections come.  Just gotta wait for those few who can see past my inability to sell and are interested in the work itself.  I believe the book can do a great deal of selling on its own, if  I can just get some people reading it.

Which brings me to the emotions. . . I’ve been going through some extreme highs and lows.  I find myself, in general, feeling much more confident that I can actually sell this novel than I ever did with Buddy.  This confidence is based on very little, seeing as I haven’t had any interest crop up yet from prospective agents, but for whatever reason, I find myself being rather chipper about the idea of getting an agent on it.

Yet, at the same time, every rejection strikes a crushing blow.  It’s not that I immediately feel like all hope is lost, but any agent lost is disappointing.  I can’t help but quickly begin to think that this whole process is too painful to complete.

And so I wobble between these two emotions.  The emotions of impending success, and the emotion of constant rejection.  You see, I do believe I can sell this puppy.  I don’t, however, have any clue of how long that process will take.  And being stuck in a long-standing battle against the agent slush pile is tiresome.  I can only do so much to try to put myself to the top of the pile, especially considering my inability to sell appropriately.

Yet, these feelings of impending success keep me moving forward, putting as much attention to the things that require my attention.  Knowing that the more effort I put into this process, the better my odds of a happy return.

It does, however, mean that I’ve got a great deal of work ahead of me.  I’m cool with that, but with spring officially being here and calling me to the outdoors. . . well, it’s hard to keep myself in front of a computer screen.  I’m doing quite well so far, but, well, looking out my window and seeing the sun beckoning me to come and play. . . it’s some sort of torture.  But success will come.  It is coming.  I will win.

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