It's been over a month now since I sent the first three chapters of my manuscript to the agent. Still no reply. Maybe this is a good sign, if it's been looked at and was considered garbage then maybe I would have had it returned by now? Maybe it's been moved to another pile marked 'Maybe'? Or more than likely it's still sitting at the bottom of the slushpile. It's fate intrigues me; I try not to think about it as I simply enjoy writing and I don't want to be distracted. On the otherhand, having an agent means my book will stand a good chance of finding a publisher, and isn't this what I want? Not so much fame, more kudos and spondulics.
I'm spending five days at my friends, Al & Elizabeth's this week. I was supposed to be looking after their cat, but sadly it looks as though he's gone to the great cat litter in the sky. Nevertheless, it's a great opportunity to write and I hope to get a first draft of the whole book completed. Their flat in Lewisham, London, is featured in my book so hopefully I will be inspired. I hope its going to be productive as it will be a bit weird being away from the family.
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