Digging out of the Doldrums

I'd been sort of hands-off about my finished manuscript since an agent in NYC asked to see the entire thing (following the first five pages, then three chapters, then 100 pages ... it was all very incremental, and of course very exciting because it meant she liked what she was reading). So I figured I'd wait and see--if she wanted to represent it, she would contact me.

But the reality is, it's been a long time (a year), so I guess what this means is that I'm back to square one. However, I'm much wiser this time in terms of how to query, how to shop my manuscript to the right agent through meticulous research, and how to not adapt a laissez-faire attitude when it's my own work that I want more than almost anything to have published and read and enjoyed and analyzed by the masses.

Although I write every day (in some way shape or form) and have one completed manuscript and half of another, writing had started to revert into being a hobby for me. Getting my passion to be an actual published writer back over the past few days has been incredibly exciting, and I've gotten to know (well, inasmuch as you can know anyone through a blog :-)) some remarkable people along the way. However, it has reminded me of how darn difficult it is to get a piece published, even if it's pretty good.

Anyway, I was kind of having a pity party on Facebook last night, and I got a very interesting response from one of the wisest women I know (well, actually, I don't know her personally, but if you read her blog, you'll know what I mean). For a status update, I put something about being distraught about my writing career not doing what I wanted it to, and she put something encouraging about keeping to keep it up. I then went totally to pieces and had what could only be described as a Facebook temper tantrum ... to wit:

"Thank you : ) It's just frustrating me that I have a completed manuscript that's good (and it's not just delusional ol' me saying it) that I can't seem to do anything with. Then I'm trying to start a serious blog, and I'm not even sure how to go about doing that. I'm on vacation from work this week, so instead of stressing about teaching English to ninth graders, I'm stressing about my failures as a writer. Okay, that all came pouring out in one breath ... sorry about that ; )"

Her response, calm, cool, collected, and beyond thought-provoking, was:

"You know what will make things happen? Release all expectation from your writing. I promise you, that is what worked for me. When I had these goals and expectations and emotions attached to what I was doing, I was choked. I released it and my writing started to flow...and opportunities presented, and continue to present themselves."

She was absolutely right : )

The Shock Value of Self-Discovery

Anybody that knows me in reality (and there are some of you here, although I've had the great pleasure of getting to know a lot of people through their blogs and their comments on this blog ... isn't technology grand : )?) is aware that I have some self-esteem issues, that I view myself as a very weak person.

I have just had the hardest week of my life, and (again if you know me in reality) that's saying a lot. However, I've somehow found steel within myself that I had no idea existed when I had to be the person that someone else was leaning on instead of constantly leaning on other people. I am very proud of myself, and while part of me feels that it's arrogant to write that (and part of me can't believe that I actually feel that way), I think it's an important lesson that I need to share.

The thing is, it's really easy to depend on other people to get you through the ups and downs of life. Sometimes, though, you are forced to be the rock. I have to play that role all the time in my professional life (and I think I do it pretty effectively) and of course with my children, but my personal life has always been characterized by me being the weak one, the one always screwing up, the one not knowing where to turn or how to dig out of the myriad holes I fell into (and more often than not they were holes that I dug myself, usually unaware).

This sounds almost creepy, but it's like I'm suddenly on a higher plane of existence. I don't know how else to describe it. It's like looking at the world a different way, of realizing that I have control over a heck of a lot more than I thought and that I can help fate (or ka ... or destiny ... or God ... or whatever you want to call it) out.

I guess what I'm saying is, I always thought of "growing up" as being something that happens all of a sudden when you're eighteen or so (I of all people should have known better, since I'm pretty sure I was less mature when I was twenty-one than I was when I was twelve ...). It's nice to know that maturity is constant and evolving in the same way that learning is, that you can gain value from every single mistake--yours and others'--, and that the person that can surprise you the most is often you.

And it's an amazing feeling to be proud of what you've found within yourself. Just amazing.