I feel like it’s been forever.
Forever since I had free time to just think about and enjoy my writing. School is the primary obstacle here. I am so sick of classwork that I could puke. Or consider giving up. Like, seriously consider just ignoring the mountains of responsibility I’m treating like molehills, and move on with the next phase of my life.
What started as this wonderful opportunity, this chance to do something for myself that would matter, has suddenly become a burden. The thing that must be overcome before anything else can even be brought to the table.
Trevor and I are preparing to buy a house. I think we’re ready. The money is close enough to the goal we set last year, and I am tired of living in a tiny, wore out apartment, and walking through rain and snow to wash clothes. I want a place that’s truly ours.
And a space that’s mine. With a desk and bookshelves, and maybe a tiny reading nook.
But, now we’re thinking that we should wait until school is over. Until I’m done. And I’m angry at the very idea. And not just because it would keep us out of a house. I’m angry at school in general. I want to finish the edits on The Steel Armada. I want to write Jordinn’s Story. I want to edit Cards. I want to work on side projects, and read all kinds of books.
And even though I’m doing some of those things, there’s so much I’m still unable to do. And school is the most readily available scapegoat.
But, besides my general dissatisfaction with my productivity, things are good.
I sent my query letter and first five pages to my best friend Bill (aka Brittany) a couple days ago, and have been waiting anxiously all this time. Every notification on my phone made my heart pound, thinking it was her email, telling me how terrible my story is.
I sent it to her because, although I know she loves me, I also respect her taste in literature. She’s intelligent, and writes a little herself, and enjoys editing. So, when I told her about my intent to query an agent, she offered to look things over if I wanted her to.
She got back to me today.
She loved it! I asked for more details, and she gave really great feedback. I trust her input, and I’m trying my best not to talk myself out of believing the compliments she gave my work.
I suddenly understand the gnawing doubt inherent in being a writer. No matter how much I trust, respect, and like what she said, there’s still a part of me that doubts it.
I’m telling that part of me to go to hell.
… I’m also getting a second opinion.
I’m going to send the same exact email to both my best friend, and Sister from another Mister, Patty, as well as Trevor. Believe it or not, he hasn’t seen a single word of The Steel Armada. We’ll see what they say.
After all their feedback, and any necessary changes thus, I’ll send it to the agent. And that has me beyond nervous. Even though I’ve told myself a thousand times that it won’t come to anything more than feedback at best. Showing my work to a professional has me tied in knots.
Anyway, I’m ignoring pretty serious amounts of homework for this. I don’t mind personally, but my guilt is eating at me. If I don’t do my homework tonight, or at least a big chunk of it, it’ll cut in to my time with Trevor tomorrow, and that’s not fair.
So, I’ll see you soon Blogland. Probably Monday, with a review of Mistborn: Secret History.