I tried my first "real" food last night. My stomach thought I was nuts. That's the payback on this particular flu. Even after it's gone your stomach just really wants to protest any food. What? Eating? No. Let's stay empty for eternity. Blech.
Apparently, though, I'm better because my brain started up at five a.m. and kicked me out of bed. Today, I swore I was doing a rewrite on Honor Among Thieves. So, naturally, the muse wants to play around with Matching Lies. In the past, I've thought, "Okay, I'll just write a scene. Then, I'll be done." One scene blends into another and, all of a sudden, I've written 5K and the day is gone. I'm not falling for that today. Nuh uh. I'm on to your sneaky ways, Muse.
The husband might be home today, though. I think the stomach flu finally took him down. I'd like to say it's his own fault but, really, I've been smothering him with my arms and legs in the night, and he's too nice to tell me to go away with my germy ways--my hot, sexy germy ways. Actually, just hot--I think I've been running a low-grade fever for a week or so. Ahhh marriage, je t'adore. The love and germs between a man and a wife are just touching, aren't they? (Why did the word "touching" sound slightly crude in that sentence?)
Anyway, so the plan.... There is always a plan. It may fail miserably, but it is there. My plan is to do a final rewrite of "Honor Among Thieves" over the next few days. I want to get it below 98K. We'll see. Diana did a line by line for me, and I'll tackle that--as well as some issues my mom found. I also have a hard copy that Stephanie and I have both smacked the heck out of. It's covered in ink. Then, next week, I'll work on getting it sent out to DAW again. I keep thinking, "What's the worst they can do? Laugh in my face and explain their form rejection always contains helpful pointers from a second reader?" Then I think, "That sounds kind of sucky. Can they really do that? Is there a form rejection for that?" Okay, so the plan is a bit wobbly and anxious, but it's a plan.
So, when a publisher asks for an exclusive, that's just among publishers, right? Can you still query agents? (Actually, honestly, I'm tired of querying agents. I know it's the right way to do things, but I put my heart and soul into it, and they always find a holiday to reject me on. These personal rejections sting a little more. Not that I want to go back to the good old days of "Pass and God Bless" but there is something that really nips at you a little more when they care enough to tell you exactly why you should find a different agent to pester.)
Can you tell I'm a little heartsick about the whole thing today? I'm really trying to really go back to querying this year, but I'm feeling like a sissy. Maybe I'll send along a fill in the blank rejection with my query.
Dear Wendy Sparrow,
While your story was brilliant and made me tingle all over, I'm just a very busy soul with (other clients/a bitter divorce, and I'm cynical/playing Sudoku/sleeping/reading "the next Harry Potter.") Don't lose hope. I'm sure that (the circus is hiring/you must have a day job/another agent will recognize your brilliance/this can't be the best you can do.) Keep (writing/querying/your manuscripts to yourself/blogging--it's your real strength.)
My best (regards/restraining order/toothbrush/agenty farewell/and dearest desire is to smother you with money, but I can't--so toodles)
Okay, time to get to work. (Wendy cracks knuckles and looks at the time.) Crap. It's time to get the kids ready for school. Bah! Stupid muse and her tricksy little ways. We hates her, my precious. (Sorry, I feel a little like gollum this morning.)