As you probably already know, I have been working on my first novel since November 2009, when I wrote my first draft. I've been reading about how to contact agents and publishers since I started writing, and recently feeling a bit worried about how to approach that next step. I imagine I'm not the first writer to feel a sense of dread about getting *that* letter together.
So, imagine my utter amazement yesterday, when I was contacted by a publisher, who has requested to see my manuscript! Yes, I *know*!!! I am pinching myself as I write this. I won't say any more just yet in case they decide that my story does not fit their list, but still, it's very exciting.
The past 24 hours has been a bit of a weird dream-like experience actually. In a good way.
Only this lunchtime, I was carrying out one of the gazillion tasks involved with my other "job" and making some cheese sauce, when it dawned on me that I was so overcome by this request that I have not even mentioned my other publishing achievments this year.
As a result of gaining over 30 votes for my story 'A Knowing Look' on Authortrek, this story will now be considered for inclusion in an anthology of short stories. (Please do still visit and vote by clicking on the beige button just above my photo if you have yet to do so. I'm determined to get as many votes as possible!)
Also this year, I have submitted three pieces for charity fundraisers which are moving towards being published too. All in all, this year has been quite a success, when I stop and think about it.
For now I am waiting for the school "holidays" to finish, and then I will be able to polish my book until it shines and send it off.
And then, who knows...?
I stand on the fine sand, gazing out to sea. We stood here before, didn't we? You and I. Younger, then. Innocent perhaps. Lovers learning about each other in those early days.
The time we spent on this beach was perfect. Like an advert on TV for far flung luxurious holidays. Our own private paradise. We didn't want it to end, did we?
A man walks past. Dressed in green trunks, he glances at me. I signal to him and buy. He's feeling lucky now. Selling watermelon and coconut is not easy at this time of year. I feast on the melon. Sticky juice runs down my chin and neck. I don't care. I can swim later and wash it off.
They'll never find you. The tides and the rain can do their worst. I dug down deep enough to find the wet, thick sand, and your remains won't be found until I am long gone. Or maybe you will become sand yourself, and have footprints trodden into you.
I watch the sea with a complex smile.
This story is also on the Six Minute Story website.