My feet are up, my laptop balancing on my legs, and I just finished doing some research. I'm so grateful for the internet. How would I learn how to write a synopsis without it? We'd have to stop at a book store, I guess, and buy references with our gas money. Or food money. I wonder why I didn't realize I would need to have a synopsis ready if the editor at the pitch session yesterday wanted to see more of my book. It's ready. I'm not. No synopsis. I should have known.
I have now printed about 30 pages of contradictory information to read in the car tomorrow as we continue on toward California. Then I'll write the synopsis as if it needed to be even better than A Different Song, the novel it will represent. After that, I can attach it to an email along with my first three chapters, as requested, and send it to New York.
Am I excited? Do bears... oh, that's not appropriate, is it? I may be pre-published, but I'm still professional, right? Let's just say I'm decidedly satisfied with life.