Or rather, still editing, just limping along a little faster than I have over the past few months. I manage to hammer out a chapter or two a week and if I can get out of my own way I can probably (probably!) finish this fourth draft by fall.
About that getting out of my own way thing.
I could pretend it’s just lack of energy that’s been holding me up, but at least part of it is fear. If I finish the draft, then I’ll have no excuse but to start querying again and I fear wasting the one pitch I get to every agent on my list with a manuscript that is less than perfect.
How I imagine agents reacting to my manuscript.
In short, it’s not being told “no” that I fear. It’s running out of opportunities to ask for a “yes”. As long as I don’t query I can luxuriate in possibility. And yes, typing it out makes it sound just as nail-bitey and tail-chasey as it is.
So I’m going to keep propping up the novel’s saggy middle so I get it back out in the world.
My querying is really rolling now. Know how I can tell? I got my first rejections.
“Pleased” isn’t exactly the word – every query goes out with the hope of success. I can’t even say I’m relieved, which given that I hate not knowing where I stand is a novel experience.
But I feel like I’ve passed some kind of writerly milestone. It’s one thing to write for myself, another to share it with people I know, but sending it out into the world for a chance at having it be a printed and bound book I can put on a shelf seems a step beyond.
Rejection is part of the process. Just as I can’t fence hoping to medal/make gold every time, I can’t expect every query to end in offers of representation. Most of them won’t.
I just hope I can maintain my good humor as the rejections stack up.
I had a good week at Nationals. As in, surreally good:
I won a shiny…
…fenced a team event as the “anchor” (though I was always the kid picked last for kickball). On the elevated finals strip, no less, though not a gold medal bout
…and even placed the highest I ever have (80th) in a large (150+) competition of mostly spry teenagers.
Additionally, querying and other networky/researchy things revolving around The Book™ are going better than expected. Don’t really feel like I can go into detail yet but it’s all very promising.
So why, when everything is coming up roses, does it all feel a little…wrong?
Part of it is straight-up homesickness. I lived out of a suitcase for half of June. I don’t usually travel this many places in quick succession. While the people I’ve met and events I’ve participated in have been wonderful, I’m unused to such rapid changes of place and I’m left disoriented.
Some of it is exhaustion – all that travel, plus full time job and Life that never stops on top of my seeming inability to get more than 6 hours sleep a night has taken a toll.
But more than anything else it’s my bad wiring.
I have anxiety and depression. I don’t like to dwell on it so I don’t talk about it very often. Due to my great good fortune in having decent mental health care they are mostly managed, most of the time.
But sometimes my brain just won’t let me have nice things, as it did towards the tail end of last week. It has this chemical rebellion that results in feelings that it’s all going to backfire any minute, or that it’s all luck and not the result of long hours of hard work.
As I type this I’m bouncing back, but it’s a long, slow bounce. The best I can do is rest, get back on a regular schedule and avoid caffeine like the plague (ask me about my celebratory slice of chocolate pie. No, best not). When I’m in such a state, rejoining the workaday world where I am not an [insert activity here] rockstar is paradoxically easier than enjoying my successes.
So: big girl panties yanked up, laundry done, early bed tonight.
