The Waiting Game

It kind of feels like... waiting for Christmas, when you're 7 years old. Or like, waiting for the doctor to come 45 minutes into your appointment. Sort of like, waiting to see the person you fought with, so that you can make things better or... waiting to find out if he really likes you as much as you like him. It's waiting for college applications and SAT scores. It's waiting to read the next book in the series - a book that hasn't been published yet. It's painful, and hopeful, and most of all... the longest feeling in the world.

I'm trying to busy myself by revising and rewriting and refreshing my Gmail way too many times it can't be healthy. I'm considering busy'ing myself by sending out even more queries (if you're keeping count, I'm 9 queries sent, 3 rejections, and 1 partial request), but I don't want to send out a query that isn't working, but I don't know if it's working until I hear back from agents and... well...

Some agencies say that they'll respond in two weeks, while another it's 6 to 8. Then, there are some agenicies who won't respond at all - if they don't like what you've got. So... it's a tad difficult, trying to decipher if my query is working or not at all. Maybe I should just wait a little longer.

On another note, thanks to the spiffy invention that is the U.S. Postal Service's confirmation label, I know that my partial arrived in TW's mailbox at 1:05PM today. That means... she has it if she wants to read it. That means, she could read the first couple pages and decide that it's not for her or read the entire thing and be "intrigued" to read more.

...

I'm waiting to find out. Wait with me, won't you? (forgive the half bitten finger nails, I won't bite them when you're around...)