Losing track of days, with little to distinguish weekends from the rest of the week, aside from the absence of Pop Master. Tuesdays are still dustbin day, and Thursdays are clap the NHS night (or let your dogs run wild in the street when the kids leave the front door open, and get shouted at by the neighbours night, as it is known in our house). By Friday, the fridge is mostly empty and I have to face the prospect of braving the supermarket. I did it last week, for the first time since the Lockdown began. It went relatively smoothly, although I felt uneasy at some shoppers who were less careful about keeping their distance. My arch enemies were a couple who were all togged up with gloves and facemasks but completely ignorant of the distance tape on the floor, and stood so close to the woman in front of them in the queue. I don't like having to rely on other people to do the right thing, and gave them a very wide berth.
The highlight of the week was an international pub quiz, where we were the only participants outside Singapore. I LOVE quizzes but it was quite stressful, as we were communicating via FaceTime and 3 different WhatsApp groups, and I kept forgetting which one I was posting on. My team members were very understanding when I accidentally posted our answers to an entire round to all the participants. Mortified!
The weather has been really quite lovely, and once again the blossoms are bringing such joy. I am taking the dogs for a good walk to Crowfields in Moulton every day, although usually having to go alone as the rest of the family are not quite so keen. I haven't run this week due to a massive blister on my big toe, which refuses to heal. I bought some dressing from the pharmacy today and will see how I get on with that tomorrow. My new mate Bill the Olympian said that as long as I am walking and keeping my muscles active, a bit of break shouldn't be a problem.
My life has not really changed too much in the last few weeks, although I have been spending more time cooking and washing, as we have a houseful of famished young adults, who will eat anything that doesn't move. I have warned Mr C that his days may be numbered unless his activity levels increase, and rocking doesn't count.
We are very fortunate, and grateful to the brave souls who are risking their lives to look after us all, and to keep the wheels turning. It has all been said before by so many, but there is no harm in acknowledging all that they are doing, and in such frightening circumstances.
There is some good news, although with a lowercase g. I have finished the edits on my book (round of a claws, as a little girl I used to teach would say when someone did something good), and have sent my manuscript to my Beta Readers, who have agreed to take a look, and give their honest opinions. This is a big ask, and I am very grateful to them. But at the same time, incredibly nervous in case they hate it and tell me that I am kidding myself (or worse still, think it but don't tell me). I spent a day googling questions for Beta Readers, and used my findings to write a questionnaire, the responses to which will hopefully show me whether I am on the right track.
I am now trying to produce my perfect pitch package, ready to submit to prospective literary agents. I have just re-written my synopsis for the tenth time. I am finding it impossible because it needs to outline the main characters, themes, and events in one page, whilst giving a flavour of the book and being sufficiently exciting and enticing to draw the attention of an agent. And then there is the query letter to accompany the synopsis and first few chapters of the book. And if I don't get them right, then the book will never see the light of day.
There are a multitude of YouTube videos and online articles providing guidance on producing the perfect pitch. It is also the subject of many books, blog posts and some of the bigger agencies run courses specifically to help with hooking an agent. There is almost too much information, but even with so much advice to hand, it is nigh on impossible to get it right. So much (apparently) depends on timing, and luck. A bit like The Voice - an agent might already have too many authors similar to me, or might feel that they can't do anything with me, or that my book does not reflect current market trends. So much is down to being in the right place at the right time.
I could consider self publishing, but I don't feel I have the knowledge or experience needed, and would much rather place my warm egg in the basket of a good agent. I am shortlisting agents to approach, and have got my eye on one in particular.
I first sent off my book to some of the biggest literary agencies just over a year ago, and had a few rejections, although these were outnumbered 3:1 by those who just ignored me. This is not unusual apparently, and many give warnings on their websites that they receive hundreds of submissions each week, and only take on a few new writers a year. Feedback is also rare, which is not helpful, but understandable. Why would they waste their time investing in a book in which they have no interest. I eventually got the message, and decided that I needed to make some changes before trying again.
Blogging will now take a back seat for a while as I focus my efforts going on the hunt for an agent. I will still post, but maybe not as frequently as I have been.
So please bear with, but also keep your fingers crossed for me. I hope that I am ready, but even if it's not my time, I am not giving up yet. There is a second book whizzing around in my head, which I am excited about. If nothing comes of Magpie, I will move onto that. All will be well as long as Mr C doesn't decided it's time to send me back out to work. I've been very lucky to have had a couple of years away from work, to focus on writing. But it would be good to sell a few books, and get some money rolling in.
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