The road to success is dotted with many tempting parking places.

Yesterday, I had an e-mail from a literary agent saying that having read the synopsis of my novel, she didn't think it was for her.

This would have been my usual reaction.

That I'm rubbish. I'm wasting my time. I should just give up. Park all my dreams somewhere because they aren't worth pursuing.

See, I even found myself an idiot-proof parking space.

BUT - by some miracle, I DIDN'T think that. What I thought was, 'That agent is not for me.'

In actual fact, I had lost my nerve a bit after approaching the top agent last time and getting closer to acceptance so, cowardy custard me, this time went for a LESSER agent thinking that perhaps I was being too ambitious. And she didn't even want to see my work.

It all goes to show, doesn't it?

I have just posted off the first fifty pages to another top agent.

Bon Voyage, my work!