I’m having one of those down on myself – never gonna finish this stupid rewrite – would rather uncork a bottle and let the kids play webkins so I can sit down and write than do what I gotta do nights.
I took a good look at the calendar today. I’m disappointed in myself and I’m afraid I could have lost an opportunity. An agent asked me for a rewrite on February 4th, right after I started my job. It was an honest email in that she wasn’t offering unless I could wow her with the rewrite, and that’s fine, I was still excited about opportunity. It’s what we all want, right? I mean this is an agent with proven sales in my genre. To not at least try to work the rewrites she’s suggested would be really dumb if I think I can do it. She said I could just send her chapters when I was done reworking them. I’ve rewritten the beginning of the book – almost in it’s entirety – I mean, I’m SO close to feeling comfortable enough to show it to her that I can almost taste it, but it ain’t READY. And it has been 4 months since she asked. I mean, I realize that she’s not chewing her fingernails over something she hasn’t made a commitment to, but what if the window she thought she saw for this book is closed? I do believe in things like fate, so it should be comforting to just have faith that if it was meant to be it will, and if not, then maybe it wasn’t… But sometimes it’s hard to tell yourself that.
I have other things on submission, so it’s not like this is the only egg in my basket. I’m probably only feeling sensitive because I did get a rejection letter the other day, and I usually like to make a submission right after receiving a rejection (softens the blow), only I don’t feel I can do that right now with the state the story is in.
Sigh. Why is writing so damn hard? Why can’t I quit? That might be a better question. At any rate, guess I need to get my errands done so I can get back to work, huh?
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