I’d forgotten that via 43things, my past self had sent my future self a reminder about publishing my novel, but I got said reminder today. Normally this would have prompted an attack of the guilts, but as fate would have it, just this morning I popped my very first query letter in the mail. Kismet!

I know nothing is going to come of this other than my very first rejection letter (I’m sending it to the wrong market, but I don’t know where my stuff fits — who on earth publishes books about people and for people who like things like “Lost in Translation” and “Me and You and Everyone We Know” and “Shortbus”?! OK, so maybe I need to make a movie instead), but just sticking it in the postbox felt like an act of faith. And that was quite something.

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