For those who don’t already know, I write children’s books. Novels, for 8-12 year olds. And so far, I’m right on target with my career.
Which is to say, six years in and still no agent.
Because the average time from taking your writing seriously to having a book on a store shelf is – I kid you not – ten years.
This past week I nearly died of excitement when an agent (who had only read ten pages of an unfinished manuscript) requested a TEAMS meeting to discuss possible representation. You could have knocked me over with a feather.
The meeting was had, we got to know each other a bit. And now he wants to see the book when it’s finished. Which means it’s time to focus less on playing dolls and more on writing.
This is a great idea, in theory. It’s even great timing-wise, because the last dress I started for Hattie is a sad little heap of nothingness she’ll never, ever wear. It’s a disaster. And when sewing problems happen, words are where I escape to.
Unfortunately, I’ve also got some writing issues going on – character development things I must solve before I can continue. Normally when this happens I spend less time writing and more time sewing. But right now, in the face of my recent dress failings, I don’t want to sew.
And I don’t want to write.
Even though I really, really DO want an agent.
My normal strategy of bouncing back and forth between my writing and my sewing has finally failed me, just when I need it most. But fear not. I’ve found a third place to bounce!
I’m learning to cook.
And if you can stop laughing at me long enough to click another link, you’ll find my new favorite recipe over HERE.