That wicked feeling

It could be called stress, or even panic, but it's neither. It is simply a wicked feeling I get every time I e-mail an article to my editors, or on this occasion, an e-mail to an agent requesting a permission to e-mail my work. It is not easy being abroad all the time, but then, I was born abroad for most of the people (and I don't mean outdoors, but simply in another country).

My mind is racing and I fear that the kind agent might even look at my blog that I have mentioned in my e-mail. Can you imagine the effect it could have? They may think I'm a looney...

The wicked feeling I am talking about is similar to that shock or distress I had in my thighs when I had to start the car on my driving test, I still remember the shakiness of my hands and my feet, I honestly thought I would stall the car - fortunately I can not stall the e-mails otherwise none of my work would be published ever.

There is also that awful thing about e-mails, if you make a mistake and don't see it in time, you will end up looking like an idiot, this is probably why I check everything I send out at least five times. Maybe I should apply this practice when posting on my blog, that certainly would reduce the amount of non sense on my blog, because it's always just type and publish, no second thoughts or fear none of that wicked feeling that seems to appear fr m nowhere when I have to click my mouse, everything always happens rather quick and I barely think about it afterwards, I suppose this just shows that I am not taking my blog seriously, but I see my editors and my possible future agents as very serious people indeed, at least one thing I've gotten right - my priorities.

The thing is ,I am writing because I am stressed hoping that a little rant on my blog may relieve me of that wickedness inside of me, but this could all end in tears again... Do you know the horrible feeling of getting that - thank you, but no thank you letter from agents/publishers? It tears you in half, then chokes you and finally, it makes you scream (or cry depending on the mood). No I don't want any of that.

P.S. So all you know, after I wrote this I got a reply e-mail telling me it's OK to send Mr. Weatherman through, and so I did. Fingers crossed.