It was two months ago that my path crossed with Angry Robot Books – a random tweet from an SF icon and the path of my nascent novel, Hash, was suddenly clear.

Sixty days, three drafts, and countless sleepless nights later, I had honed my initial manuscript into a pitch-worthy form, spending the last week on the pitch itself, seeking advice from veteran authors as I neared my self-imposed deadline.

At quarter-to-seven tonight, I checked over the guidelines one last time (six times, really, but I don’t want to sound too fussy), packed up the requisite RTF, and sent the bundle on its way.

I was cheered up by a quick auto-response, phrased just right:

Fingers crossed you get the response you’re hoping for.

I genuinely appreciate that little sentence; makes me feel like all the salt-throwing, spell-reciting, and turn-around-thrice-ing that I’m doing in writerly superstition isn’t as silly as it might sound.

At some point, we have to give our work to the greater chain, and let the confluence of events take us along or not. In those times, I have little but superstition and casting runes, which I do in my own little way. To know that we all find ourselves in that waiting room, all end up in the antechamber of life, is comforting in a way I can’t explain.

I’m hoping it’ll help me through this wait. In the meantime, I think it’d be a wise choice to start thinking about the next book.

If I end up getting bounced, if it’s for any reason that I could help someone else avoid, I’ll be sure to post it here. If the unthinkable, unspeakable, unimaginable happens and that wonderful thing which shall not be named comes to be, I’ll probably write a post about that too, once I pick myself up off the floor.