Some weeks in a writer’s life feel like slow, steady breathing. And then there are weeks like this one—the kind where things shift, the inbox stirs, and suddenly you’re sitting at your desk thinking, Oh… something’s happening.
Three days ago, I sent out a wave of queries for my newest novel. If you’ve ever queried, you know the drill: you hit send, you close your eyes, and then you try not to refresh your email every five minutes while telling yourself to be patient. To be calm. To go write something else.
And then, out of nowhere, a full request lands in your inbox on a Monday morning.
A fast one.
A selective agent.
And suddenly, a “this could be something” kind of moment smacks you in the forehead.
I won’t pretend I didn’t stare at the screen for a long second, blinking a few times to clear my eyes, letting my heart do that ridiculous little skip it does when hope taps you on the shoulder. Then came the repeated "Oh My God" scream that followed as it settled in.
And because publishing is a strange mix of strategy and serendipity, that one request set off a chain reaction. I nudged the agents who’d received my query over the weekend—the ones who hadn’t had a chance to read it yet—and suddenly the whole list felt alive. Big agencies. Dream agencies. People whose names I’ve whispered like a wish.
It’s funny how quickly the energy shifts. One moment you’re stuck in the quiet. Next, you’re in the current.
I don’t know where any of this will lead. That’s the truth of querying—it's a long road, and every “yes,” “no,” and “not quite” is part of the process. But today, I’m letting myself feel the spark. The movement. The possibility.
Because sometimes, in the middle of the waiting, the universe gives you a little nudge too.
And you get to say, "Okay." I’m listening.
