Dreams, Clouds, Death and Words...

So, I will be mailing off my application and manuscript to Hindman this week.  I'm scared but confidant, if that is possible.  There is still some trimming to be done, details to add, fluff to remove.  All in all, I feel good about where I am, and where I'm going to be the first week of August.

This week I got some news that set me on a cloud floating toward a dream.  There is someone, someone of importance, that might be interested in my novel.  Have you ever had news so good that you are afraid someone might take it away from you?  I was in a state of shock for a full 24 hours.  I am still in a state of anxious joy.

They way I see it, this could go one of three ways.  (Yes, I realize there are millions of endings, but these are the three on which I've chosen to focus.) 

1. This editor will look at my novel, and say something to the effect of "Nice stuff, why don't you try x, y, and z to make it better.  Good luck with that."
2. He will take a look at my novel, and say something to the effect of "Nice stuff.  This isn't really what I'm looking for, but why don't you give my friend _____ a call.  He may be interested."
3. He will take a look at my novel, and actually still be interested.

And this is why I am scared...All three of those options are phenomenal!  I don't believe I've ever had a situation where all the outcomes are positive.  There is truly nothing bad that can come of this situation.  Option one seems the most plausible to me (forever the pessimist), and that is still GREAT!  All it means is I'm not ready now, but I have made more than one good contact toward the path of becoming published when I am ready.

I am still not capable of putting into words the emotions rolling around in my head.  I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that 1.  I am going to the Tinker Mountain Writer's Workshop  2.  I may be going to the Hindman Writer's Workshop  and 3.  There is a professional in the field of publishing that is willing to take a look at my work.

So, here I am, on a cloud, floating toward a dream, writing about death, and completely out of words.