Oh my. Oh me oh my. I got my very first request for a full manuscript from an agent. The universe, being the coincidental and complicated place that it is, saw fit to have said request land in my inbox the day my son was transferred from the ICU to a regular hospital bed after his open heart surgery. I didn't see it for three days (living at the hospital does have its drawbacks) and I was a bit distracted to check my email anyway. However, I did appreciate the cosmic "party" thrown in my honor, and have thanked the appropriate deity in charge of timing. More nods to the cosmic pun factory were in store, after finding out that since my son will have to be on blood thinners for the rest of his life, there are certain foods that are prohibited from this point on, mainly spinach, broccoli, and all greens. I think he's been practicing for this moment for his whole life-the mere smell of cooking broccoli makes him run for the hills!
I am cautiously optimistic about this request for my entire book, and highly anticipating any input a professional in the industry would have about my story. There is a fine line in my head between optimism and wild speculation, and I'm trying so very hard not to cross into the sharp-edged world of high expectations. The publishing industry is fraught with shark filled pits of self-destruction, where criticism can gnaw you down to nothing but bones. There is too much pain in the world for me to set myself up right on the edge of that pit, toes hanging over the edge. So I remain cautiously optimistic, with fingers and toes crossed.
