tree be

It’s more than a little intimidating to have submitted my Once Upon a Time manuscript to agents. Now’s the waiting game and I feel somewhat stripped. Naked. On display before “experts”  who are picking over–or entirely ignoring–what I’ve written. Or downright reject it. I’ve already been duly forewarned that it’s all part of the writing game, but I’m already impatient. I want my story out there and in the many who have told me they want a copy. At least, I hope they still do.

In the meantime, I’m sending out more queries and proposals to other agents. And waiting. Like the tree who stands patiently, allowing her leaves to slowly turn.

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