No that's not a typo.
After waiting for four months for a response from an agent, I finally sent a follow up. The agent very courteously replied that she didn't know where it was, that it might be in her intern's box and she'd send it along to him. Another month went by and on the advice of Ray (Hi Ray) I sent one more follow up. This time her new intern replied, requesting that I resend the material. I did this and she sent me a form rejection twenty-four hours later (As she has a reputation for offering helpful rejections, I dreamed that she might offer me one. I could really use that kind of help).
This is all part of the process. It still stinks.
In the process of doing some checking on the Query Tracker, I discovered that the agent's orginal intern (the one who my first query went to) quit taking queries back in June because they were so very backlogged. Although this shouldn't have affected me, it might have alerted me to the problem a little sooner had someone announced it somewhere other than on the intern's blog, which I had no reason to visit.(Getting to know the agent's expectations is challenge enough).
This morning I decided to follow up with the other agents I queried in that same window in time and discovered through Query Tracker that their response time is quite a bit shorter than I've allowed for. I can only assume that they didn't receive my queries. This leaves me wondering (and giving the first intern the benefit of the doubt) if the first agent ever received my query. This does not leave me feeling very comfortable with my server. Nor does it offer me any confidence in querying through e-mail. I'm wondering if it's considered poor form to attach read receipts?
So I've now requeried one agent as that's what their site recommends and sent a follow up to the other. I've got four more queries going out this weekend.
Yesterday was an otherwise lousy day as well--all my squash plants were murdered by vine borers, we're still broke (I keep expecting that to change?), I found a fly in my wine (wine not whine) and my husband has to work, using our only car, so I couldn't make the writer's conference I've been planning to go to. So I finally had myself a regular little pity party, with only one guest in attendance. I don't think I'll invite my husband to the next such soiree. He eats all the icecream, drinks all the flyless wine, and is too darned encouraging to be any fun.
And thus I plod onwards.