People keep asking me stuff like, "How has your life changed since getting an agent?" Of course, there are derivatives of this question like, "You bastard!" And, "You wrote a book? Oh, it's Young Adult. I don't like Vampires."
And honestly, my life hasn't changed that much. Except now I feel an undeniable pressure to make my writing good, better than before, because somebody else is involved with me in the whole writing endeavor. More on that in a bit.
Inevitably, what has changed most in my new status is pretty simple: I feel humbled. And no, that is not a joke. As I've been working on my revision, I'm struck by the amount of faith Michael has to have in my writing to take me on as a client. On the other side of this faith, is a huge dose of affirmation of my skills and abilities as a writer. While I won't say the anxious Is this any good? stuff has disappeared...I feel like I'm close to realizing a dream of being a published fiction writer.
In so many places in life, humility is expected. But I'm going to take a moment and suspend the obligatory and say: Yes, Yes, Yes! and Finally, Finally, Finally! - because that's how I'm feeling. Yeah, my road to getting an agent was like the Autobahn. But I don't think that lessens the accomplishment, or how I should feel about it. I've been working on becoming a better writer for six years now. I can't tell you how many times I've looked at my book and said, "This is a dream, stop worrying about it."
Of course I always dreamed about having an agent, getting published, touring the world with my book (and a re-united Guns n' Roses, but that's another blog post...) But I never quite let myself believe it was going to happen. Because why get excited about a dream that - for most people - will never happen?
And I guess that's what I'm trying to say: it is happening, and I've been a bit cavalier about the whole thing. I've made all the jokes, tried to be humble and not get crazy obnoxious (read: running naked through the streets yelling something to the effect of, I've got an agent, byatch!) So I'm not sure why I've adopted this attitude.
Maybe I'm still scared that the book is going to suck, that it does suck, or at some point everybody who ends up investing in it (and me as a writer) is going to read what I write and say, "We KNEW it. He's a no-talent hack."
At least for today, I'm going to give myself a pat on the back and say, Good Job. But then it's back to revising.
You know, so the whole book-sucking thing doesn't happen.