In the morning, my roommate and I swap stories from yesterday. “Fifty thousand?” he says. “That’s a good match because I want to sell fifty thousand.”
Har har. That’s the spirit.
A slot opens up with another agent who has rejected me multiple times, going back decades. I said (mentally) no thanks. Moving on. She was actually on the panel at San Francisco Writers Conference where we read first pages and I got a round of applause after managing to read through without interruption, the first to do so, and ultimately one of only two. But I didn’t get a glimmer of recognition at SFWC when I talked to her and I won’t get it here either.
I am now at the Waiters’ reading, in the barn at 10pm, a beer in hand that is both welcome and tasty. Young people enthusiasm! Audience enthusiasm! They are enjoying themselves. I am showing up in gratitude for their service. Plus, three are in my workshop, and I like all three. The crowd is huge and enthusiastic as well, which is something, because everyone is already looking a bit ragged, and, wow, a 10:00PM start time. I’m not a night owl, but cheers! Beers! It’s great fun.