Thursday, March 16, 2006
Yesterday I received this letter from a BG (used with permission):
Thank you so much for your Monday "Fickle Emotions" blog entry! It was just for me!
I've been battling those "my first book was a fluke..." thoughts and delaying in sending my book proposal to my too-patient agent. After I read your blog I settled down, finished my sample chapters, proofed everything and sent it to my agent.
Within a few hours I heard back from her. She raved about the proposal and sample chapters and immediately sent everything to the publishers who have expressed interest in the proposal.
Thank you for being vulnerable and ministering to a nervous author.
I rejoiced at this news. Wrote the BG back and said as much. And meant it. Then it hit me. Drat. No wonder I’m a beleaguered, cabinet-kicking, angsting novelist. God uses it to help others.
It gets worse. Knowing His wry and ever efficient sense of humor, He no doubt wants to continue in this vein.
Does this mean I’ll never get to be an oh-writing’s-such-a-breeze, 10-book-a-year, don’t-you-wish-you-were-me novelist?
And I was so close.