I've signed a contract with a New York agent. A writer hopes, but this was a blessing beyond.
My new agent represents many well-knowns in Southern literature. Before he ever called me he had read the manuscript three times.
The response to my novel, The Sanctum, was nothing short of, hmmm ... is this supposed to happen to me? I shall ever remain humble here in North Carolina. I know from whence I came, and I understand there are no guarantees, even with an agent. But my God, I've got an agent! I'm still in shock.
So forgive me while I bury my head, once again, in my work, getting the manuscript seamless before my agent presents it to the publishing houses.
I guess it still feels surreal, like I don't want to jinx myself. You know? Anyway, I'll keep you posted. It's been a long, tough, road. And that's an understatement. Right now ... I'm still pinching myself. Well, darn. Merry Christmas to ME!
Blessings to you and yours this Christmas season.
