Not gonna lie, most of today was spent trying not to think about what’s going on with my manuscript. Laundry didn’t help. Making a list of agents to query didn’t help. Eating the rest of my son’s Goldfish crackers didn’t even help. And I really love those things.
On top of that, my delusions of grandeur tumbled down my shirt into a pile at my feet. You know that short window of time where you think your MS will stand out because it’s different and unique and magical, with the power to stop an editor or agent in their tracks and contact you right away, because you are the exception? Yeah, well I think it’s safe to say that window is now officially closed.
I know, I know. It’s only been a week. Patience is a virtue. I’ve got to wait my turn. Pay my dues. That which doesn’t kill us only makes us… cranky as hell. I get it.
Except, the unknown is killing me. I need something big to distract myself… well, would you look at that. Brenda Drake’s 2017 Pitch Madness contest. This doesn’t seem like it would ratchet up my anxiety about having my manuscript read/judged AT ALL. Sounds perfect.
I do it to myself, don’t I? I see a grease fire and immediately throw water on it. Oy vey. Here’s to hoping tomorrow is full of better emotional mojo.