I should be celebrating, but I feel like upchucking. On the table next to the front door sits a lovely book mailer stuffed with one partial and one full manuscript freshly-printed and ready to be mailed to the agent who requested them at the conference I recently attended.
So celebrate - woo hoo! Sending requested material is a good thing, and an essential step in the process - yahoo
But... I feel nauseous - the odds are I will see my SASE in the mailbox about 2 months from now. At that point it becomes a question of 1 - did I receive the dreaded 'dear aspiring novelist' or 2-a more personalized rejection? wait and see... and keep writing. And yes, I know - EVERYONE gets rejected.. Stephen King, J.K. Rowling... yes, I know. It still won't be fun.
E has been good (I think) throughout the psychotic process of polishing my pages before sending them. I have been up (I'm a GENIUS - this is BRILLIANT) and down (this SUCKS and makes no sense and will all go straight in the NYC recyling bin). He's been giving me a lot of time to myself while he works in his 'robot lab' which curiously still just looks like his workshop with the TV on. Whatever. He's been supportive, and even picked up a copy for me at the print shop on his way to get plywood or 4x4s or something.
If he finishes that freaking robot and then co-authors a best-seller with the robot I will lose my mind.