And now we wait...

 

I have just sent copies of my new sci-fi novel to a dozen publishers.

Fly, my pretties! Fly!

I don't want to give away the title, because I think it's pretty clever and I don't want anyone else to steal it before I can use it myself.

But here's my pitch for the story:

"After the eco-crash, the banking cartels built their own country, an impregnable island of high-tech luxury. A handful of thieves from the scorched remains of Australia aim to infiltrate and rob it, risking televised torture for the biggest score of their lives."

It's a futuristic crime thriller with a cli-fi setting and a wicked cast of characters - a ruthless planner, a father-son safe cracking team, a homicidal AI drone, and a wall-crawling doctor with illegal reptile DNA implants.

The future world is as accurate as I can make it, following current scientific predictions to their natural end. The dead oceans crawl up the coastline, our landscapes are ravaged by cycles of storm and drought, and oxygen levels are so low that humans and rats are the only vertebrates left. But people adapt to carrying oxygen cans and eating insect protein, so life (and crime) go on.

Now I wait in hope for the next few months. It takes a long time for most publishers to get back to you and many of them never reply at all. I understand that, as they're overwhelmed with submissions, but it's maddening to be on tenterhooks!

I find the best way to handle the wait time is to start on the next book. If you're busy writing, you're not fretting, so I'm getting stuck into a teen superhero series.