After years of work, and time off for non-writing behavior, my final draft of my first book is finished. Now the fun begins. I need a publisher. I’m almost positive I need an agent. My choice is to take the traditional publishing route. That was my dream since I held my first crayon to paper.
Since yesterday I am not just a writer. I’m a writer with a finished polished manuscript. I have entered the next phase of the writing life. A phase full of researching agents, publishers and trends. A phase of letter writing, outline polishing and synopsis drafting. New things to learn. New steps on the road.
After years of dreading this step, I find that I’m excited.
I considered climbing on the roof yesterday and shouting, “At last, it’s finished!” However, I didn’t want to scare the neighbors. Living near a writer is traumatic enough for them.