I'm in a sort of drifting fog this morning, and it has nothing at all to do with having just woken up.
The Reason: I feel as though my Life in Words--that is, my writing career--is finally starting to make progress. I discovered last night that my YA novel Ephemeral has progressed to the third round (or quarterfinals) of the Amazon Breakout Novel Contest, and that in this approaching round, my entire manuscript will be read and reviewed by representatives from Publishers Weekly. Which sounds as good as a grand prize, to me.
Of course, the actual grand prize is publication and a contract with Penguin, but only one YA writer out of the 250 left will take home that golden egg. And I'm not enough of a bighead to expect that it will be me. But Publishers Weekly? The entire effing manuscript??
Meanwhile, I've been blinking stupidly at the review posted on my book's Amazon site, by the Amazon Vine Reviewer who read my excerpt in the last round:
"I'm enchanted by this piece. It's a true standout among many very good entries. I wish the author the best of luck, as this vibrant and luminous writing deserves to be read far and wide. Beaute's situation is presented artfully, and her sisters, while less than perfect, are not made out as completely evil and one dimensional. This tale looks to be far more intriguing than any cartoon version."
For a girl who has been dreaming of being a Real Writer since the tenth grade, and who has spent the last two years scrabbling and fumbling, scratching and clawing in a desperate attempt to make it into the vast world of the Book Market, this feels like seven Christmases lumped into one. Who knows if anything will come of it, but for now I will continue to gaze starrily at my name and title on Amazon, and view this as a moment of success in the course of a long and arduous journey.
And after all, "It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end." -Ursula K. LeGuin