In December, I finally sent one of my books to a publisher.  It scared the heck out of me, but getting published has been a life-long goal, and I couldn’t keep my manuscripts stacked on the corner of my desk forever.  The publisher’s website warned it would take eight weeks for them to get back to me, but the time passed quickly (Christmas will do that).  As I hit week 7 and then week 8, I began rushing to the mailbox with heady anticipation, rifling through the mail with slightly shaking hands, only to feel a twin sense of disappointment and relief when no word came.  Ever impatient, I emailed the publisher at week 9 only to be informed that they’re swamped, and it will be another eight weeks before I hear anything.  >SIGH<  Consequently, I am moving on to publisher number two in the interim.  I don’t expect them to be any swifter, but it occurs to me I’ve placed all my eggs in one publishing basket, and I will be sorely disappointed if they are not wanted.  These eggs are, after all, my literary babies, and I want everyone to love them as I do.  With realistic expectations like those, how can the publishing fairy disappoint me?  I hope she visits soon. 🙂