I’ve done my part. The book is written, revised, sent off to my agent, and now begins the hard part –waiting for and editor to nibble.
This is worse than the times my father and mother used to take the family fishing at a friend’s pond. My Dad would help us bait the hook, and throw the line and bobber out into the water. Then I had to sit on the bank, with bugs flying in the air and buzzing around my head. Mom gave me the look every time I wriggled around on the bank, or slap at the darn bugs. No talking allowed. I waited for the excitement of the first tug on my line, or the way the concentric waves around the bobber said there was a fish on the end of the line.
That’s where I’m at for the time being. Patience is not my forte. I like things to happen now, to be in control of everything. This is one time where I have to put my faith in my agent and my work. Questions always come to me each time I hear of a rejection. Maybe my stories are lacking, is my voice strong enough, or do I have the right bait on my hook? Those late at night doubts make me want to jerk the controls away, but I can’t. Not this time. Patience and faith are my watch words.
One of these days I’ll get the call from my agent with good news that we caught a big one. That’s the day I break out the champagne and do a happy dance. I think I’ll go to my local pole dance studio and buy a pair of five inch heels just for the occasion. First, I’ll have to learn to walk in them, but it’ll give me something to do while I wait