I’m holding onto my manuscript protecting it from its potential oblivion while trying desperately to remember it could all work out just as I hope.
Last summer I was in freefall. I had accidentally started a marketing company because it was convenient and clients gravitated to me. Partly I didn’t want to be back in an office setting. While another sadder part missed the protection of an office setting. If you have a proper office job, no one questions how productive your days are. No one questions how productive your days are as a freelancer either but the word freelancer resembles freeloader closely enough to get the self-judgment wheels-a-churnin’.
I almost had enough clients. I had limited (extremely) limited expenses. I had the perfect opportunity to build my business. But I spun. I knew internally that all I needed to do was trudge along in the trenches patiently and eventually I would wake up at my revenue goal. I spun some more thinking it would be way better if eventually started tomorrow so my heart wouldn’t beat so fast. Yet, I wanted it to beat fast in order to burn calories without going to the gym. Nothing’s ever simple in life.
I took all my kilowatts and made a plan. I was going to write 2,000 words a day for 40 days. And at the end of those days, I would have my first novel: Commandments of a Mistress. I employed (with kindness) my friend Iva to receive pages every day and keep me on track.
I sat. I toiled. I felt delighted to know I accomplished something every day for 40 days. Right around the time I finished Commandments of a Mistress eventually arrived and my work-life settled.
Since then I’ve edited and edited. Read and reread. I’ve had friends read it. And they actually finished it and developed strong opinions about it—so that seems hopeful.
Now I am at the point where I can send out query letters to find the literary agent of my dreams and make that big book deal dream come true. However, I’ve stalled a little.
The book has been my shield. Right now I hold in my possession possibility, which feels nice. I don’t want to let go of that possibility and end up back where I started: churning.
I am the tortoise. And as the tortoise, I will be blogging now about my experience trying to get this lifelong dream accomplished. I hope not as slowly as surely.
Check out my tweets about the Bachelor and the Bachelorette and some other stuff here at @lamuscarella.