I just need to share my own frustration over myself here, so join in, kids!

I'm trying to do everything I can to sell the novel and be on the paying end of writing in long format, but you wouldn't know it from my actions. For instance:

The main manuscript I'm selling is a contemporary paranormal fantasy, a sort of urban noir lite.
So although I didn't end up going to the NY Comic con this past weekend, I had the opportunity to to go out for drinks from 4:30 to 6:30 pre-con with a work colleague, the B&N scifi/fantasy buyer and Jim Butcher, author of the now-a-tv-series The Dresden Files. It would have been just the four of us. So what do I say when I'm invited?

"No, thanks, I've got plans."

No, thanks, I've got plans... yep. That's what I said. It wouldn't have been so bad, except I really didn't have much in the way of plans other than going home after a long workday on Friday and sitting my ass down to relax. So why did I say that? I have no earthly idea, except to think I clearly don't want to succeed. I mean, Butcher is a hair away from the type of book I right for fuck's sake... and the B&N buyer just happens to be making his buy on the DAW anthology I'm in for August. In every conceivable way, I feel like I shot myself in the foot on this perfect opportunity.

I suspect I'll be kicking myself for quite some time over this. I'll keep chugging along. I've got an editor-in-chief and two agents with the manuscript now, so I'm not slacking, but I find my lack of rolling with the big boys is best summed up by my icon, who is speaking directly to me.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

So I'm sitting in a meeting today where the editor who is currently reading my manuscript mentions that they will be adding in quirky urban fantasy books (like mine) into their line up as the find them. She then presents a book aobut an investigator who used to work with the MBI, the Magical Bureau of Investigation. This of course, sounds NOTHING like my investigator who works for the DEA, the Department of Extraordinary Affairs. They're publishing work so in my vein I could spit.

It either means the stars are lining up for me or else they've already filled that niche.
Oh and here's the kicker...

I noticed that the editor on that project is the one who gave me a great preliminary read. Back to my nervous weeping...