My hands are still shaking.
I just clicked the SUBMIT button and sent off the YA. Couldn't they have come up with a better term than SUBMIT? For a writer who just sent his work out into the big scary agenty world, the word takes on a meaning that I'm sure the gmail programmers did not intend. Because just before I clicked the button, I had the feeling that I was bent over, grabbing my ankles, and waiting for something prodding to make an unwanted appearance. SUBMIT, indeed.
Right. So I sent the YA and now comes the waiting. This is where I'm supposed to bemoan the sluggish pace at which things occur in the publishing industry. I'm not gonna do it, though. The SUBMIT button was depressing enough, so how about something positive? Here's how I'd like things to go next:
1. On Monday, the person to whom I sent it calls (because I might not get to my email right away) and says, "I've read the first ten pages and I'd like to sign you right now. You didn't send this anywhere else did you?"
2. I sign.
3. "Oh, did I mention that it's perfect as it is? No revisions necessary. Never have I seen such a polished story from an unpublished writer. Actually, now that I think about it, I've never seen such a polished story from any writer. I can see my reflection in this story, and it's actually better looking that the real life me."
4. I act all humble and say something self-deprecating.
5. Agent laughs. Uproariously.
6. Book is sold by Friday.
7. Book is in stores by March because the publisher is hurting and needs a massive infux of cash ASAP and ever since my halftime appearance at the Super Bowl people have been threatening to destroy New York if the publisher doesn't get moving.
8. Book flies off the shelves faster than John Edwards can say "Oops."
9. Oprah calls. She wants me on her last show. I decline.
10. With all of my money and power I decide to purchase New York. I rename it New Murph. I refuse to live there, however, until Times Square is turned into a huge outdoor library stocked with books whose pages have all been laminated, at least until I find a way to control the weather.
And in honor of the title, here's this: