It's been six days since I mustered up the courage to send out the first ten query letters to literary agents. The thrill of putting my work out there, the anxiety of waiting for a response, and the dread that comes with rejection—it's all part of the journey for an aspiring author like myself.

As I sit here with bated breath, constantly refreshing my email inbox like a nervous twitch, I can't help but reflect on the responses I've received so far. Out of the three replies I've gotten, two were rejections. Ouch. It stings, no doubt about it. But as every seasoned writer will tell you, rejection is par for the course in this industry. It toughens your skin, they say. It's a rite of passage, they claim. Maybe so, but it still stings.

However, amidst the rejections, there was a glimmer of hope—a beacon of light cutting through the fog of doubt. One agent wants to read more of my novel. Just thinking about it sends my heart into a frenzy. Could this be it? Is this the break I've been waiting for? Or am I just setting myself up for more disappointment?

And now, here I am, caught in the limbo between hope and fear, patience and restlessness. Waiting is not my strong suit. I've always been the type to jump into things headfirst, to dive into the unknown with reckless abandon. But this waiting game, this never-ending cycle of hope and apprehension, it's enough to drive anyone mad.

I find myself checking the clock every five minutes, willing time to move faster, urging the universe to deliver me from this purgatory of uncertainty. I know, I know—the publishing world moves at its own pace. Agents have piles of submissions to wade through, deadlines to meet, clients to woo. I get it. I respect it. But that doesn't make the waiting any easier.

In the meantime, I try to distract myself. I pick up a comfort book, hoping to lose myself in someone else's world for a while. Don't judge me as I dive back into The Twilight Saga—it’s one of those series I love to hate to love. I've read it enough times, though, to find nostalgic comfort in its pages. Writing that out makes me think that maybe I lean in more to the 'love' than the 'hate.'

Funny enough, the literary agent for Twilight happens to be one of my top choices, one of the agents I'm hoping to hear back from...so as far as distractions go, I probably could have found something better.

My focus keeps drifting back to that elusive email, that pending reply.

Impatiently patient. An oxymoron that sums up this peculiar state of being perfectly. Each ding of my email notification sends a jolt of adrenaline through my veins, only to be followed by the sinking feeling of disappointment when it's not the agent I've been waiting for. But I soldier on, clinging to that thread of hope, that glimmer of possibility that keeps me going.

One thing that does help keep my nerves at bay is the gradual feedback I'm receiving from my beta readers. Every bit of praise and constructive critique feels like a lifeline, reminding me that Marked by Fate has potential. Hearing that they love my novel gives me hope that I'm on the right path, that maybe—just maybe—I'm going places with this book; I just need to be patient.

I suck at being patient.

So, here I am, pouring my heart out on these virtual pages, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that come with being a writer. In the end, all I can do is hold onto hope, keep the faith, and trust that the right agent is out there, just waiting to discover my words.

Until then, I'll be here, caught between the agony of waiting and the hope of what's to come.