I have spent a good part of the past two weeks getting a manuscript ready to send in, writing a cover letter, writing agonized emails to my friends, and moping around at home, alternately optimistic and despondent. I have nipped, tucked, spell-checked, formatted, and moved scenes around, and very soon I am going to have to stop that. I have pictured someone actually opening the thing up and reading the first page, wondering what their expression will say. "Oh God, not another one?" A speculative frown? A sigh, and the thump of 300 more pages hitting the recycling bin?
Makes it hard to sleep.