The nesting has gotten a little out of control. I vacuumed the floor and made a wedding album tonight. I got married 3 years ago. We have framed pictures up in hallways and my husband has mulched the back yard. We are messy, fuck-it kinda people. Which isn't to say we're lazy. We're not. We're just half assed about some things. And more likely to let something slide in favor of having a conversation about anthropology or make sandwiches and go for a hike than finish that big project. But the nesting has hit Rob particularly hard. And my will's a little hidden in the fat folds so I bend to him. And our house is shaping up quite nicely for it. Still, I hope I won't look back and wish we would have just held hands and taken more walks.
So I wrote this book and I think it's pretty decent. That's the feedback I'm getting anyway, which is bitchin' really since I have a degree in Education, NOT writing. Plus, this is my first try, so really I should be happy, right? But, turns out writing the book is maybe the easy part. The publishing is another story. You have to find a Literary Agent. To do this, you have to write a 1-3 page letter to many literary agents to convince them to read a sample chapter. Send it with a Self addressed stamped envelope (SASE) and wait. there's more but I'm already experiencing a high level anxiety just writing about this part. In my letter, I'm supposed to explain who I am, what my book's about, why I'm qualified to write it, why its sicky illy good, who'll read it, and on and on. AHHHHHhhhhh! This shit scares me. Also, I'm supposed to be witty, clever, literary, and junk. Oh and explain a 300 page book in a sales pitch. I'm not a frea...
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