I recently completed another round of edits on my debut novel, which I finished in August of this year, and while I am sure it will still require more edits, I am reflecting for a moment on why I want to be published.
I presume most writers want to be published, and I am no different. I hope my writing is engaging, my hook strong enough, and my characters will be discovered by an agent who will want to champion them, and my debut novel, but I know the process is difficult.
I long for my novel to be discovered and published, but it is not for fame and fortune. Far from it.
Having an agent say they love my story and characters, and they want to get them out into the world is what I long for. Having an agent believe in me and the power of my words and saying, that, yes, the way I’ve strung sentences together and paired words, actually works, because this is a novel people will want to read, that is what I long for.
Maybe I am dreaming and living on cloud cuckoo land, but these are my true hopes and desires for the words I have toiled over for more than 2 years.
I want the world to meet the characters who have become real people to me, explore the little world I see in my mind anytime I read parts of my novel—the world I created, and I hope very much that an agent somewhere out there will feel the same.