You may recall that I sent out three queries yesterday (that's six total; I know, I'm going slowly) and I received my first response a few minutes ago.
It was a personal note from the agent's assistant, which kind of sucks, although it's better than my three previous impersonal "form" rejections. He said the agent had evaluated my project and determined it didn't fit into their "current list," whatever in the hell that means.
But he was nice about it. And I got the impression that someone had actually read the query and the submitted pages.
Sigh. I know there are many very good published authors out there who were rejected dozens of times before they hit paydirt. And I'm certainly nowhere near giving up. But damn. What does a writer have to do to get an agent's attention? Stand on his head? Sheesh.
Oh well. It's Friday and the Cubs won. So life goes on.
One bummer, though. My lovely wife left this morning for a weekend Newspaper Guild conference in Cleveland. (I've been to a few Guild conferences in Cleveland and I am not envious of her. Trust me.) But I do miss her when she leaves, even for the weekend. Her flight is due in about 5:30 Sunday evening and the 12-year-old and I will be eagerly waiting with dinner fixed and on the table.
I think we're going to skip the family movie tonight, and opt instead for baseball on television and/or video games. Boys will be boys.
Have a great weekend. We'll talk again on Sunday.
