A huge part of the adventure of trying to be published is not adventuresome at all. It is waiting. Waiting for some kind of response to those envelopes you prepare so carefully and kiss before you slip them in the mailbox (do editors and agents know we all do this? They may want to wash their hands after opening submissions).
I have no clue how an acceptance would come. Mail? E-mail? Phone call? I'm hearing that often agents call to offer representation and I know from experience that magazine rejections come via mail (hence that self addressed stamped envelope we include in the submission).
But regardless of how an acceptance or rejection would come, I have become obsessed with the mail. I have always been a big fan of mail. My best friend and I tried to send an actual physical card or note to each other on a regular basis in college because non-bill-non-junk mail can totally brighten your day. And I mentioned earlier this week how receiving books in the mail as a child turned those books into my favorites instantly. Now mail has a whole new importance in my life. When it is a half hour later than usual, I get all testy! At this point I'm excited for any word (good or bad) about my writing, so I need that mail carrier to be prompt!
I wonder if there is any way I can get them to re-do their route so I can get my mail in the morning instead of the afternoon...