No Microwaves for Maturity

Personal Note: This afternoon I danced to a Sting song ("An Englishman in New York", I think) with three very attractive gentlemen who have singularly individual moves. And all of them were under nine years old. There was a lot of spinning inlvolved.



Earlier I was writing a letter to a friend and that's where I got the title of today's post. I thought it was exceedinglu clever, but that's part of my own charming little delusion.



It's true, you can't put someone into a microwave, push a few buttons, and voila! They become a rational, fair-minded adult. Or taller. But that's another set of intructions. The same can be said of a Work in Progress, or a WIP. There's not a magic drawer you stick your manuscript in and it comes out with a six-figure contract, gorgeous cover, and a legion of fans. While that scenario sounds awesome in theory, I'm not entirely sure I'd prefer it. I mean, yes, instant gratification always seems like something one could totally dig, but then, how much would we truly value our accomplisments?


I write this post as a reminder to myself. The stress and strain, the fear and fatigue of traversing the business side to creating a book is worth it. In the midst of the rejection--which I once compared to tearing off bandaids from your most sensitive areas all whilst having a heinous sunburn--there has to be hope, right? I have my little pinpricks of light, my little hopes. Two agents have asked to see pages from the novel, what's called a partial. One passed already, but it's okay. Two means it's not a fluke. Two means I have something here.

I don't need a microwave. I'm all right with the pressure most days, and the days I'm not all right with it, I've got people, whether they be writerly peers (Hiya, guys!), loyal beta readers (hey, girls!), or family right here in my home, stroking my hair while I try to forget why my stomach and chest hurt.


Plus, you know, extremely talented people sending me fan art of Joss and Sebastien helps, too.





Art compliments of Kara-Lija.

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