I quit writing at least once a week.
Last week, I went to the humongoloid AWP writer’s conference in Boston. I pretty much go every year. I never know what I’m going for. I always come back ready to write, feeling good about writing, charged up.
The good feeling about writing last four days this year. Today, I sent a query letter to an agent who represents some zombie book authors. I have a zombie book to sell. In about an hour, she wrote back saying “it wasn’t her sort of book.” Right. I must have been confused when I saw that she agented several zombie/supernatural type authors. My bad. The blind search for agents is awful and deadening. I quit. Again.
Tomorrow, I’ll quit all over again. And probably the day after that, too.