Sometimes the act of working towards a resolution is more satisfying than the outcome itself.

Eleven weeks ago, I submitted a novel for a second round of consideration to an agent that seemed a good fit. Between their reputation and catalog, it hinted a possible match with my own quirks and writing style. Based on their input, I spent part of four months–in stretches on weekends and evenings–revising the manuscript, documenting the changes in a nifty table. I found the tedium of this process pretty difficult at times. When something is so close to being there, sometimes the realization that there’s another step left, is more daunting than the effort required to actually take it.

Yet for all the challenges, there was sweetness. A great proofreader stripped every line to its core, and reassembled the pieces. I learned very obscure–yet handy–points of grammar and diction. When the manuscript survived two reviews by someone who had copy edited one of my favorite books in print, it was a very reaffirming experience. Net effect: because of the collaboration, the project came through the other side tighter and more polished.

And so, with the edits done and the email sent, the wait began. Vacation and a change of scenery made the time pass at the beginning quite easily. The freshness of a new year was a good distraction for much of January and kept my focus on other issues. My birthday helped, especially all the nice notes and phone calls from friends and family.

But largely the weeks advanced, each one barely indistinguishable from the last. As the the three month mark loomed, I had a tremendous amount of trouble sleeping–a problem that grew more acute this week, when I barely slept at all. In my insomnia, I watched Taxi Driver twice. It took being absolutely miserable before I realized what I needed to do. The only thing I could.

I sent a note. In addition to thanking them for their input, I indicated I would start querying other agents next week.

The agent might respond. All I know is I have my bearings again.

Yesterday was my birthday and more notes, emails and phone calls came in than I thought I had friends. Thanks to everyone for being so cool. One student even baked a cake and delivered it to my office. Totally unexpected. But seriously, much thanks!

I’m trying to learn the joy of celebrating a birthday for the sake of the day itself, rather than approaching the day with dread. Have a long ways to go with that one.And it’s doubly good news, because the strike is now history. Despite the saber rattling and threats, the writers inked a good deal which provides their members a foothold into new and emerging revenue streams. More money is always good.

I remember a few months ago industry editorials came out against the strike and warned that writers were in for a long, painful, fight that would certainly end unfavorably for them. In the meantime, the networks and the film industry lost 3.2 billion dollars. A lot of shows in the production pipeline got canned in retaliation.

But the warring parties settled.

I guess Walt the Janitor and Bobby the PA had trouble crafting television shows. Maybe it’s all the coke they snorted off the pool boy.

Due to some wacky glitch at AT&T Wireless, it has been impossible to contact cell numbers in Southern New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Delaware from a land line for the past 96 hours. Mobile to mobile calls work, and cell customers can dial landlines; the reverse has been erratic or impossible.

Never mind that I live in central New Jersey. In fact, I’m as close to a geographic center as is possible. But my phone has been affected as well.

Surely no one important is trying to call me via the cell, which is at the top of every query and cover sheet ever mailed.

It could worse. All Blackberry service is out in North America.

Yikes.

If there were grades for fortune tellers, I would usually net a D. Perhaps a few of my forecasts do land close to the money. But generally my predictions are off-target far more than they are correct. And that’s acceptable, since only a fool or a maniac claims he knows everything headed his way.

However, when it comes to the agent who is reconsidering The Last Track, there are signs I could be on the right course. I mentioned in an earlier post that I would not comment until February 1. This decision–which rests on a very long consideration of the holiday schedule, their probable workload and some inside information about the publishing culture–looks almost prescient now.

Based on my hunch, I sent them a note on Tuesday. In short, I wished them a happy holiday, thanked them for their time again, and then asked if they had all the materials they needed for a decision.

About five minutes later this response arrived:

“Still working through a few manuscripts from December. Hope to get to yours soon!”

Soon is a relative term, but I believe a definitive answer will arrive before my February 13th birthday.