I was at work today when my Dad walked in. He’s visited me at work before but he really had no reason for it today. Or so I thought.
Practically the first thing out of his mouth after he said hello was that the agent had called him back and wanted to see the first fifty to seventy pages of my novel. Fifty to seventy pages! Thank God, that’s all I can say. The beginning is well written and it does jump right in to a degree, but things don’t really start happening until chapter five or so. (For those of you who haven’t read my book, through chapter nine, which is what I’m sending, is fifty-seven pages.) No promises made of course, but the fact that a professional agent is going to take a look at something I wrote is pretty overwhelming.
The only problem with this is that I’m being quite fatalistic and have thought of a million different things he could dislike. We are our own worst critics, right? I’m sending it to him tomorrow afternoon. Don’t want to appear too overeager, even though, you know, I totally am.