No, I’m not channeling Dusty Springfield…well, maybe I am. I’ve submitted books for quite a while now. Since 2008 at least. I’m coming onto ten years since I’ve been published. Feels odd to put it like that.
But one thing never gets old or easier. Submission. You’d think that after a while, it WOULD get easier. I mean, I’ve done it a lot. I’ve sent books to many publishers and until I was formally published, I got a lot of rejection letters. I still get them from time to time. Still stings when I do. But this post isn’t about rejection.
It’s about that crazy waiting time. I know how long it tends to take to get from submission to answer. It’s never short. Okay, rarely short, but it also usually involves a long and productive relationship with the publisher/editor for that to happen. What I’m talking about isn’t one of those times.
I sent a submission in (no, I won’t say where), but I know exactly when I sent it. Exactly when. What I’d forgotten was the ability to block out the excitement-slash-nausea thinking about if it’ll be accepted, if not, what they might say…and how long it takes. That’s the funny part about being published for a while. I don’t assume the book will be accepted. Never. Why? Because while I might think the book is fab, that doesn’t mean the publisher will, too. I’m always ready for the curve ball.
But that doesn’t make waiting any easier. Heck, I wasn’t even sure (for a moment) how long it had been since I’d sent this submission in. Then I looked at the calendar and knew PRECISELY how long it’s been.
What do you do when you’re waiting? Do you get antsy? No? Let me know.