So here it was, the big meeting! It was Saturday the 28th of April 2012 and I was going to an agents sesson run by the local writers organisation. The day was to start start at 10.00 with nine other people.
First there would be a talk with a top agent who had come all the way from London, on what the industry was looking for in author's, followed by a questions sesson, then followed by a one to one with the agent.
My hopes were high, very high; if my hopes where a kite it would have flown all the way to the sun. I had one advantage over the other people in that this agent had seen my whole manuscript, but only the first three chapters of the other writers.
I arrived at the very same time as the agent and nearly nocked him over with the door when I walked in as he stood in the porch way, taking off his coat. I introduced myself to him straight away. I knew his face from his twitter account which I had been following, but the way I tried to act so confident at the time, I think back-fired a bit.
He was still trying to take in his bearings and there I was shoving my hand into his like a long lost friend.
I was convinced that once we were alone he would be jumping at the chance to sign me on, in fact I was convinced that because he had had my manuscript for some time he would already have a publishing deal waiting for my signature.
I kept quite while he talked and during the questions section, and joined in the chit chat with the other hopefulls while one by one we were summond to an upstairs room for a private chat.
When it was my turn my heart rate exploded and as I walked up the stairs, it was beating so fast I started to sweat, by the time I walked into the room was my air of confidence was starting to show signs of straining.
I sat down next to the agent, he was polite and honust, but it was not what I was expecting. He said my story had potential, but I needed to make my mind up about one thing! What age group was I writing for? You see when I first planned out my story it was a childrens book, but as it progressed it became a book that adults could enjoy too. But as always there's a but, as the style changed my lead charactor hadn't. It was a miss-mass of two types and I had to decide which market I was aiming for.
I knew then he wouldn't sign me as a client and as we shook hands, said our good byes and I walked down the stairs my heart started to cry with rejection once again. I went to the toilet to steady myself, and then had a final cup of coffee that had been kindly laid on for all the guests, but I couldn't hang around the place any longer, I needed to get some fresh air, so I left.
As I walked up the cobbled road back to my car I was suddenly struck by a great sense of joy. A very postive feeling which is hard to explain. I now knew what I had to do next! I had to redraft my manuscript once again, but this time with a clear head. My final book would now be for young adults that could be enjoyed by both sexes, and also adults who are young at heart, and love fast-pace fiction.
I couldn't wait for Monday morning when I could sit down at my laptop and start writing once again.