The mailbox has been empty of agent responses for nearly a month. Christmas bills, more catalogs and appeals from charities arrive daily, but no news from the agents I've queried.
It takes patience to acquire patience and I've never had enough to get some.
On the good news side of the house, I finally found an FBI contact and quizzed him about procedures enough to be able to sit down and write 9 (count 'em, nine) pages about the FBI raid on the office where my protag is consulting. The raid was actually supposed to happen in the last third of the book, but I realized that introducing everyone in the office one by one was going to get deadly dull real fast. Needed an event where I could describe people reacting to a crisis. So I plunked the raid down on page 24 (we're already had a murder and some sexual innuendoes) and things seem to be humming along quite nicely, and I have just about 40,000 words which must mean I've half through. We'll see.
Grapeshot
Sunday, January 15, 2006
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