SO A WRITER WALKS INTO A BAR WITH FINISHED MANUSCRIPT IN HAND...

... seeking representation.  At the expansive cherry wood bar in the center of the establishment is a glow of light and force of energy that makes the beam on Lost look like a flashlight app for the iPhone.

The writer nearly loses his grip on the one hundred thousand word, rubber band wrapped stack of paper.  The challenges of maintaining a marriage, family, friends and work added unseen weight to the bundle.  Alleviating the burden was simple.  Instead of taking a step forward, turn around and walk away.  Return to the life he knows.  Shelve the dreams once and for all.

No!  He'd come this far.  He secured the manuscript in his sweaty hands, and decided to expose his heart.

They were all seated at the bar, barely a spot left.  Superstars all of them.  He'd read their blogs, seen their names numerous times on acknowledgement pages in books he read.  Janet Reid.  Daniel Lazar.  Molly Friedrich.  Scott Miller.  Nancy Yost.  Stacia Decker.  Aaron Priest.  Liza Dawson.  His mouth salivated as he continued to run down the list.  They were the literary agents who could take his hard work to the next level.  As if seeking a hung jury, he only needed one to believe in him.

He'd already pleaded his case to some of them.  They in turn, had no clue as to who he was, having discarded his internet submission with little fanfare.  It wasn't personal.  They had busy lives too.  He was not a quitter though.

He straightened his tie, took a deep breath and cradled his novel like holding his first born all over again.  He then stepped toward the bar with a smile on his face, knowing it was only a matter of time.

EXERCISE THE RIGHT TO CHANGE

I've found that working on a novel is like getting exercise.  Unless you're a world class athlete, you can always do more and should be concerned about shedding excess everyday.  The truth is, I don't work out everyday.  Hmmm, Michelob Ultra -- only 95 calories.

I awake on weekends thinking about how I can make my finished work leaner and tighter.  During the week, when I don't dose off in front of the computer screen (the perils of getting up shortly after 3AM for work) I try to master my craft.  Can that description be better?  Is the dialogue right for the setting or am I working on the long lost episodes of Magnum P.I.?  I find myself either working on the novel or plotting my strategy for securing the perfect agent.

I did a satellite interview with my man David Baldacci last week.  I asked him if he needed me to arrange an intervention and force him to take a vacation since his latest work, Deliver Us from Evil is out, a scant six months since his previous novel, True Blue.  I understand though.  When you're hot, you're hot.  And when those ideas just pop into your head, you have to put them on on paper.

The shameful moment on my part was when I told David that his agent, Aaron Priest, had yet to respond to my query letter.  He said he'd see him that afternoon.  Still haven't heard from Aaron and it's getting to the point where I might soon need to see a priest!

Thanks to author Sara Paretsky, agent Dominick Abel provided me with a sound critique of my first couple of chapters.  I debated changing them but I've always had an open mind and he has sold countless novels while I'm still trying to get noticed.  His advice centered on disposable characters and creating the real feeling of despair and danger in a thriller.  As writers, we all fall in love with our created universe and the people we put in them.  A character I love and took the time to cultivate may not be one the reader embraces.  The result is, like in a movie, a number of scenes will end up on the editing room floor, never to see the light of day.

It's a reality that makes rewriting a tough, but valued necessity.