Ah, I'm going to pull one of the blog cliches out my hat. (No, I'm not going to tell you how to write a sex scene...)
My wife and I have been shopping for a house. If you've ever done this, then you know the sheer amounts of stress and torture it is. We've bid on 3 houses. We lost out on two houses and we were UNDERBID on both. The third...we're waiting on. It's a weird situation. I expect it to go badly.
And that reminds me of what it's like to shop a book to publishers. (And no, I do not think this post will be dated in 2 weeks. Publishing is not dying. It's changing but no... OH SHUT UP DAVE)...
There's so much uncertainty, stress, and hope--then sometimes disappointment--when your book is being shopped. There are a lot of close calls (emails to the agent... THEY'VE HAD IT FOR A WHILE, IS THAT GOOD) that rival my texts to my real estate agent (THEY DIDN'T CALL BACK IMMEDIATELY! That's good, right?). There's hope (I wish I'd saved the email my agent sent when I got my first offer...)
But ultimately... it's out of your control. All you can do is write your best book. Make your best offer.
Please keep your fingers crossed for my wife and I. It's apparently a buyer's market....
(Boy, Dave, that was a waste of a post, wasn't it? I mean really, these people learned nothing new about writing and just got to see you whine for a few paragraphs.
--Shut up, interior monologue.
--No, you have to up your game.
--Have you seen the drivel Weddle's posting?
--Hmmmm. Up your game. No one wants awkward writing metaphors.
--Fine... FINE. Next week I'll tell 'em how to write a sex scene
--If you could see me... I'm shaking my interior monologuy head, Dave White.