No burnt bridges. Phew.

Re-cap. I queried Agent #1 by email. She writes back asking to submit a partial by mail. She reads, emails and requests the full manuscript. Her attached letter indicates she expects an "exclusive." I mail it off. Meantime, my future Agentress emails after reading my query and says "email your full manuscript as an attachment." Why wouldn't I? That was Friday.

My future Agentress then emails me Sunday around midnight. Her email: "I loved it. I'd love to talk to you about it."

I sign with Agentress later in the week. Meanwhile, I kind of conveniently forget about Agent #1, thinking the easy thing to do is to let it play out. Monday (today) comes and I decide that's probably not cool. I mention to Agentress. She agrees. I'd signed a contract, after all. In any case, I apologize profusely about the turn of events to Agent #1 this morning and I recieved two replies. The first was all pith; she wanted to know the name of my agent. The second included some tough talk, but some nice words too:

...You were actually one of the writers we were considering making a part of our own agency. But I’m glad you told us when you did -- before any further time and work elapsed. This may seem somewhat ungracious on my part, but, as I say, we do expect more honesty on the part of the writers who submit to us. We put a lot of ourselves into our reviews, and all of us participate.

This said, I’m sure your agency will work with professionalism and grace, and that they will sell you very well, and with the enthusiasm we would surely have shown. As I just said: you are a wonderful writer.

Best wishes,
Agent #1

Don't take this the wrong way, self, but if you never get published, at least you know you're a wonderful writer. That's not bad. Be psyched. I am.

I've Signed with My Agentress

As of yesterday, I'm on board! Pretty awesome. I've been welcomed. I'm feeling showered with most excellent faith and praise and goodness. I plan to celebrate by eating doughnuts. Thank you and good night.

Agent Action

No contract in hand, but supposedly it's coming. Yesssiree. It all came down yesterday at around the noon hour. I won't bore myself with too many specifics. Let me go right to the best part -- and there's no other way to put this: not a lot of experiences come close to having someone who seems to know a lot about the book business gush over your work. Damn. I might've heard my Future Agentress all wrong, but I swear she said some of the following friendly phrases during our first phone conversation in the history of our relationship.

"My legs were like cramping because I was so excited to get through it."

"I almost emailed you midway through, but decided against it because I've been burned before."

"It's seamless, it flows together really, really well."

"You ruined my weekend because I couldn't put it down."

"You have a very understated, unique voice."

"It's the kind of writing that helps you forget about the writer."

Holy cow. I tried to be calm while I talked about the bagel I was eating. That's right. I was talking about my bagel. She was like, "Is there a better time?"

Then I wondered -- asked myself, actually -- if all agents read from a list of gushing praise.

I also remember asking where my fiction fits and I suggested maybe it was like maybe ... "chick lit or something"?

"No," she said. "It's literary."

It's the greatest feeling to have someone notice the things you strive so hard to accomplish.

Armistead Maupin of Portland?

I just heard from an agent who wants to see my manuscript. Kinda good news, but I've heard it before. We'll see. After taking a look at the first 50 pages, she compared me to Armistead Maupin, the San Francisco fiction writer with a successful series on depicting how people's lives and careers cross and connect (Tales in the City). Or maybe the agent seems to think I'm gay. Oh well.

I'd like to believe I can have my own novel series. At this rate, I can publish one book every 20 years. I'll be the Armistead Maupin for Portland, but with fewer books. Maybe this will be awesome. I don't know.

Google's new stalker technology

I report to you that Google Streets Maps' cameras scoured LINNTON of all places yet decided Beaverton, Tigard and Vanloser could wait. That's your fun fact of the day.

Me and Ernest

Hemingway wrote the last paragraph of The Sun Also Rises 28 times before he felt he got it right.

Hemingway, pfssh. Well, I wrote and rewrote the last paragraph of All in a Cup 280 times over a period of at least forty years. So there.

Hemingway also is said to have found it ridiculous that people would think writers were born with some sort of innate ability to string together eloquent prose to form powerful stories about humanity. That's weird because I find it really EASY.

i finished the damned thing

Dear Ms. Agent,
I'm seeking an agent. My completed novel, All in a Cup (76,000 words), is the story about two people on different life trajectories who end up needing each other. Set in Portland, Ore., the mainstream fiction revolves around Tim and Sarah, a pair of thirtysomethings: an afternoon fender-bender sets off a clash of lifestyles that leads to self-discovery, common ground, and love.

Tim is arriving from Seattle in an old K-car and looking as if he'd just rolled out of bed. Sarah is the well-pressed pharma-rep scrambling to cover compounding debt. All in a Cup depicts how lives, careers and classes cross and connect. Sarah faces the ravages of ovarian cancer, while Tim works through the guilt and grief from the loss of his wife and nine-year-old daughter. Tim is looking back, Sarah is looking to the future.

The story's day-in-the-life arc aspires to reach readers who treasure the subtleties of Anne Tyler, Pete Hamill and Anna Quindlen, but also enjoy the pace of Nicholas Sparks.

My professional background includes nearly 20 years of writing, editing, and managing ad copy, Web content, annual reports. I've also published more than 20 narrative features and opinion essays for The Oregonian.

I'd like the opportunity to submit my manuscript or at least an opening chunk. Thank you very much for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.