Once upon a time, I wrote about sending queries to agents and getting rejection after rejection, and sucking it up to tell myself, this is all apart of the business. Writers will inevitably suffer from rejection. And I have. At least my fair share. And I suspect I'll be rejected yet again. But not today. Today, I was decidedly NOT rejected. Today (or more specifically yesterday), I opened my email to see a yes where I'd found so many nos before.

Ok, truthfully, the last time I queried anything I got a great big yes...it was a book deal, right? So it's not like I can say my story ended in tragedy or anything. But yesterday as I sent out a fresh batch of queries for Suddenly Sorceress, my paranormal chick lit/romance with a sexy twist, I didn't expect to see an immediate response, and an overwhelmingly positive one at that. I mean, we all WANT that. We hope for it, dream about it, even plan for it, but it doesn't happen that often. It's the elusive white whale breaking the water with a mighty blow from his hole thing.

Anyway...so here I am, opening my email...expecting the standard rejection letters we writers are so well versed in. And what do I find? Not one...not two...but THREE requests for chapters. What? Chapters you say? Someone wants to read more? Umm...holy crap! Yeah, I said more R-rated words, but you get my drift.

So, maybe they won't love the book once they read more. But I'm not worried about that right now. I'm just flying high on the fact that they didn't say no. And like any teenager will tell you, a maybe is just as good as a yes most days of the week, and twice on a Saturday.

Until the next time...I'll be sending off those chapters and waiting for more yeses!

Somewhere up there, someone is looking down on me with a smile on their face. Does this mean they're about to laugh at me? Or have I finally managed to earn a bit of goodwill?

Well, it's a mixed bag, really. I still have electrical outages all over my house, including the heat pump, the stove, too many outlets to count, the lights going both upstairs and down to the basement, and the entire basement itself. So yeah, I'm a running joke for someone...but at the same time...as if throwing me a bone in the face of adversity, I managed to score an editor who keeps the same crazy hours as I do.

And let me just say...I love her. I do. I know you're supposed to lie in public and tell the world how much you love your editor, while planning their gruesome death in your next foray into fiction. But not me. I'm not lying when I say, I love her. She hasn't fled the country to escape my quirks, she actually responds when I send her a Facebook chat message (even my own mother ignores me half the time), and she has no qualms with debating the merits of my book, often coming to metaphorical blows when we disagree over key points.

Ok, that's kind of a lie. So far her ideas have been pretty good, and she's managed to pull some of my best work out of me, and hey, that's sorta her job, so yeah...she rocks.

Now, if I could only find away to banish the word, patience from her vocabulary. I have no idea how I'll pull that off.

Until the next time...I'll be waiting for my next round of edits.