Yesterday I was suddenly hit by inspiration for the plot of my novel. I sat with my laptop warming my lap and wrote 4000 words enthusiastically, excited as the story came into full flow, and my hand has changed shape into a claw-like form after the hours I spent typing without taking a break. I'm still trying to unfurl it now.
The novel is exciting to write, but I'm terrified it's not going to be all that exciting to read. It's certainly not going to be a man-book, that's for sure. Although I suppose I could add in a few steamy sex scenes, that might get the men interested. Sex sells. Then again, no. It's a bad idea; I mean my dad might read it!
Although I'm nowhere near finished, I decided while taking a tea break earlier that I would check out some reputable literary agents. And now things are looking bleak. So bleak in fact that as I googled and read the websites of interesting looking literary agencies, the digestive biscuit I was dunking into my mug fell in and went for a little swim in my tea. What a waste. The submission procedures follow certain guidelines, which remind me of school and university and make me nervous. For example;
Your submission should consist of a synopsis (one page), sample chapter(s) (roughly 25 pages) and brief CV.
Additionally for non-fiction a short note on the competing or comparable literature, the sources and possible marketing outlets, is appreciated.
All material should be word-processed, double-spaced on one side of the paper and numbered.
We are not looking for poetry, sagas, sci-fi/fantasy or academic work."
See what I mean? Just like school! Suddenly I don't feel at all like a writer anymore, and more like a silly little girl playing pretend.