So... after a year of virtually no word from my literary agent, i finally received an email response...she is no longer representing clients.
Back to square one, as the cliche goes.
Coincidentally, I just finished reading And So It Goes, the Kurt Vonnegut biography by Charles Shields. So, in my state of disbelief and detachment from good thoughts, I've been driving my family crazy by ending all of my sentences with that catch phrase...and so it goes. It's reaching a critical point in the household. I can tell by all of the doors closing as I near the end of speaking a sentence aloud. Everyone runs for the other room like scurrying ants trying to avoid a can of Raid. Even the poodles are avoiding me. (Sigh). And so it goes.
After receiving the news of losing my agent, I spent the next couple of days re-evaluating the whole writing career. It's a dismal time to be in the book writing business. Book stores are closing, publishing houses downsizing, and apparently the world is ending on December 22. How will one ever meet that deadline with all this pressure? Blah, blah, blah... see where this line of thinking leads me? To the Mayans.
So, I face two choices. Give up and become a professional Fantasy Baseball player owning thirty-five fantasy teams and driving them into the ground, or roll-up my cliched sleeves and begin anew.
(crickets chirping)
And so it goes.
Purpose
3 weeks ago