Up at 6.30am this morning. It's Sunday but I can't get out of the habit. Instead of running, instead of taking cup of tea and biccie back to bed with my Jonathan Franzen, I wrote. I have to get back into Novel 5 (rechristened since Novel 4 back in the picture) as work work interruptions have meant the momentum's slipped again. It wasn't an inspiring session but then I've learnt not to expect too much when I'm trying to find the pattern again.
New hope for Novel 3 as great lead article by Christa D'Suza in today's Observer chews at length on my main theme. She's christened fear of 50 as age-orexia. Fingers crossed it'll make the publishers sit up and start wanting comedy novels on the subject. A new lead on Friday, e-mail in from Agent of the Year, no less, suggesting I send samples of both novels in to her colleague if I'd be interested in talking. They're parcelled up and ready to go & that now gives me two positive leads in the fire. I wondered if I should mention that there's an interested agent reading the full ms at the moment, but to me it sounds like a goading, like, read this now or you'll miss out mate. Everybody knows you query more than one agent at a time these days. I keep it at four queries in the air at a time. Out of those I'd say 30 - 40% are no responders.
Now it's 8.30. I'm going to make another cup of tea and take it back to bed.
Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.