Breathing, breathing, breathing. Breathing is good, right? I tend to hyperventilate when I'm nervous. Can you tell I'm nervous? Am I babbling on-line? I think I am. Do you think I am? Anyway, I woke up this morning and went to my computer~just minding my own business and checking the email~when a message came out of the blue.
Back story time. I'm attending a writer's conference this weekend, you see, and there was a reminder for me from the master scheduler of the event. It was all very standard . . . Except for the bit about me having a pitch session with an agent! And Blair Hewes, no less. 1:30 p.m. Saturday. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Huh? Can you run that by me again?! I didn't sign up for a pitch session! (Look at me, going all italics on you. A clear indicator of stress.) Where did this appointment come from? I don't know.
Soooo~ what to do? However it happened, I am signed up to speak with a great agent. Do I have a book to pitch? Yes, I have two actually. And who am I to refuse a serendipitous gift?
Tell me what you would do.
Breathing, breathing, breathing.