I finished drafting three days ago now, I suppose.

“Celebrate! Pat yourself on the back!”

Friends come in and say that when I let them. When I say, awkward as if I’ve admitting to shitting on the subway, “I finished drafting that book I’ve been writing.”

I grin and feel very much like I am actually currently shitting on the subway. Try to grin, like, actually grin. Not cringe.

I have a method worked out for what happens next. Lets see if I stick to it, though.

First off is this week. From now until Thursday, July 31st, the plan is to not enter the document I’ve laid my story out in, ready for the beta readers that this week tear it limb from limb.

Might throw up, y’all. Might puke. Gross.

For this week, the idea is that I will read and listen to music. Go on walks, maybe take up yoga. Spend time with my family.

Anyway, I’ve compiled a strong list of potential agents to query. There are four in my first round. All but one accepts queries via query manager, so I’ll be able to see in real time how my query is being treated. All of them have an average response rate of less than a month. Half? Less than two weeks.

It’s smart. It’s strong. The book will be good by the time I do this, and I’ll tell myself it’s fine and normal to get rejected a lot in this business, it’s not personal.

This week is so that maybe, possibly, hopefully, I believe that.

Right now I’m too close to it. for the past four months I pressed my face right up against these characters even when I wasn’t writing. This story has been my sun, my source of gravity and light and burns alike, and it’s been barely 34 hours since I closed the document and sic’d those betas on it, but I am anxious.

I want it to be good, and I want it to get published.