The ms has returned from my agent. It’s sitting on my desk, unopened. I know that there are markings all over it, words to cut out. We talked about it on the phone, my agent and I. Part of me is looking forward to seeing her suggestions and making the novel even better (here, read more succinct), part of me is a little daunted by the work, and all of me knows that when I start, everything else will stop. I’ll enter the hidden realm again and I won’t want to come out.
So it’s sitting there, unopened, like a bomb waiting to explode and I’m the one who has to light the fuse. When I’m ready.
There’s just a few more things I have to do…. One of them is finishing a short story for a competition I’ll probably never win, but you never know.
