Fingers Crossed

My mate's first novel went to publishers over the weekend. His top flight agent reckons by the middle of this week he'll know if it's champagne or diet coke. I'm guessing the former. My mate is an excellent writer and this agent knows his onions. He recently got an 800k advance on a three book deal for a first time writer.

As some might have read in an earlier post, my mate is a dyed in the wool TV writer and I've found his comments on the switch to novels both enlightening and encouraging. So much so that if he weren't such a good mate I'd poke his eyes out with a sharp stick.

The creative satisfaction is greater.
The people are nicer to deal with.
The writer is looked on as undoubtedly the most important element in the process.

Bugger!

Having said that, he still wants to write for the screen. I guess it's the screenwriter's bug. More deadly than a NHS hospital. The need to see your words transformed from the page to the moving picture, with living breathing characters.

I'm praying his book takes off in a big way for two reasons. Firstly he's a good mate who has suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous execs, took a stand and suffered financial hardship as a result. Stand up guys are few and far between in this biz.
Secondly, as a best selling author, he won't have to toe the line like most jobbing writers, and as execs will be falling over themselves to commission something we might see his last spec get made, which having read it, I would watch in a heartbeat.

So, no names, no pack-drill, but a collective crossing of fingers would be much appreciated.