By Snow Brooks
There’s something alluring about holding a stack of manuscripts in ambivalent purgatory, stashing them in a drawer, and strolling away with a devious grin. Locked and unseen, my novels hover between the possibilities of living literary masterpieces or lifeless sewage. That’s the charm of uncertainty. I’ve got a best-seller in my drawer! Well, sort of, according to Schrödinger and his furry friend.
Like Schrödinger’s cat, my darlings exist in a state of quantum superposition until I open the box and a literary agent observes one. Is it dead? Is it alive? Part of me doesn’t want to know. Only a nefarious, mustache-twirling literary agent and his rejection letter can quash the hope uncertainty allows.
It wasn’t until I completed my third manuscript that my box of Schrödinger novels became too tempting to leave unopened. I admit it – curiosity got the better of me (yes, I know what that did to the cat). But seriously, what’s in the box? And thus began the delightful process of hunting down the ideal mustache-twirler to query.
The first thing I noticed in my search for said rascal was that locating an agent who is actively seeking romantic-suspense fiction with emphasis on suspense is like searching for life on another planet. When I finally located one in the agency universe, it felt like I’d stumbled upon a news-worthy discovery. Hear me CNN?
Then began the charming task of writing a synopsis, which is rather like fitting a hundred clowns into a Prius. And don’t forget the query letter with biography! A true delight for an unpublished author – up there with plunging needles into my retina. But, I did it. Clown-stuffing, needles, and all!
So now, I wait. Likely, for my first form rejection letter from Mr. Mustache that I will proudly frame and display as initiation to the Thick-Skinned Writer’s Club. Will I give up? Even if my walls become filled with “Sorry but” and “I’m afraid” letters? Nope. I’m tenacious and I have mustache clippers!