And selling a house is a lot like going on submission. I had that same pit in my stomach when I submitted my MLS listing. I cried a little when I got the call to schedule our first showing. I called my husband approximately 5 times to get details on what the people looked like:
Me: So how old do you think they were?
Him: Hard to say.
Me: Did they look like they'd like my crazy decorating?
Him: Well, they weren't wearing yellow.
Me: Crap. Did they seem nice?
Him: Sure, for the two seconds I saw them.
Me: Isn't there anything you can tell me about these people? You've gotta throw me a bone here.
Him: The wife was pretty hot.
So, yeah. I suck at selling a house in exactly the same way I sucked at going out on submission. I'm a little in love with my house the same way I was
a little a lot in love with The Liar Society. It's hard sending something you love out into the world and inviting people to judge it, to put a value on it.
And it's even harder when the only response you get is silence.
So, authors and amateur realtors take heart. You're not alone. The pit in your stomach can almost always be quieted by ice cream and the sting of rejection will subside to a dull ache if you drink enough wine. These things have a way of working themselves out. In retrospect there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that The Liar Society found its rightful home at Sourcebooks Fire. Sure, it took 5 months of torture to get there, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
I'm sure things will work out the same way for our little house. The right buyer will show up. Eventually. And in the meantime, I'll be here.
With ice cream. And wine. Lots and lots of wine.