The Undiscovered Country

And So It Goes . . .

Four down, fourteen to go.

My luck on finding a literary agent is holding.

Ugh.

I'd like to write more about how I must really suck as a writer when agents don't respond at all, or they respond in less than two days to inform me how my novel "isn't right for them," but I won't.

I've said it all before, and that's boring.

Instead, I will mope in relative silence for a day or so, and send out new queries, because I so enjoy torturing myself.