Waiting and waiting and waiting.
It’s not my favourite way to spend finite hours and days.
Yesterday I was concerned with ‘girth mindset’, the growing of my own ‘moon of happiness’. It’s not as if I have put a real amount of weight on, it’s just my concern for something that I am yearning to happen. I want somebody to help me give birth to a writing career.
Now, everything appears to be on hold. It’s not intentional, not planned, but is probably a reaction. I am responding to the thing that I set in motion almost two weeks ago, my book.
“This is what I’ve made. This is what I’ve done. Do you like it?”
I have read that it is best to start a new project once you have put you previous one up for appraisal; straightaway. It’s sound advice and I truly want to stick to it, but it’s a bit like being forced onto a diet when you’re still waiting for your favourite dish to be served. I find myself going back over my submission, checking for new potential agents, and fearing that my efforts are doomed to an eternity of gestation.
Yesterday, my blog stats rocketed. It took me by surprise and I went back to revisit the early posts of readafterburnout.com. I was quite pleased with what I had found. In my submission, I directed the would-be agents to this blog and this morning I wondered if any of them had taken up the invitation. It is a tantalising thought that just may drive me into madness.
I tend to read a chapter from a book each and every morning – I have morning reads, daytime reads, and evening reads. This morning read is a debut novel and is quite good. On the other hand, it is a chore. At no stage has it gripped me; indeed, the opposite. I have continued to read it as aduty to someone who is probably my age and has had a late bloom. The book received a Costa award and was quite highly praised for being an engaging and disturbing read. Now, I thought, if that is engaging and disturbing, read my bloody offering.