Dreaming of Books

Last night I had a dream.

In the dream I finished my book and, instead of sending a query letter to a million and one literary agents, I chose just a handful. I had heard that the process of finding an agent was like dating, so I looked at each person and agency carefully and asked myself if I would be able to sit through a long dinner date with the person and leave the restaurant with a smile on my face and still be chuckling hours later about things we had said.

Mind you, in my dream I was a bit of a lesbian, because with this particular dating situation, I felt like I only wanted to see women. Who is able to put up with two men in their life, especially if one of them is French?

There was one woman, from an agency owned by another woman, who I thought would be the perfect date. An hour and a half after I sent her my letter and 5-page prologue I got a return email asking for the entire manuscript. She said she would read it “promptly”. All I could think was “What does ‘promptly’ mean in the agent-dating world? A week? Three months?” I tried to set my mind on “pause”, and refused to give in to my impulse to query other agents until I heard back from her. As in real life, I’m a one-partner woman. I’m not a cheater. Plus, living in “survival mode” one-third of the time while Laurent is in New York has given me the overwhelming desire to simplify my life.

And then, in my dream, the agent called me. Well, not her, but another agent from the same agency. I listened as she told me that she loved the book. That it had made her laugh out loud. That she wanted to represent me.

I wanted to know more about her, and she described herself. We had a lot in common. Even more than I had thought I would have with her colleague.

I hung up the phone in a daze, thinking, “This is one hot agent.” Just the thought of what I would wear to our hypothetical dinner date sent me into a tizzy.

And then this morning I woke up and realized that the dream was true. And as proof that I was actually awake, and not lingering in the bliss of my little literary dream-world, I opened my e-mail Inbox, and there was an agency contract sitting right there, waiting for me.

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