Received my first rejection today.

I mean, I’ve only sent out one query, and my manuscript isn’t even ready yet, so it’s okay. My query was a mess. And the agent was wonderful about it – very nice about the whole thing. I don’t think I could have picked a better agent to reach out to on my first try, she just seems very understanding and kind.

I’m not discouraged, but it was a bit of a wake-up call for me. A reminder that, hey, this is going to be harder than I thought – a lesson that’s hit me every step of the way so far.

It was a wake-up call, too, in that I really began to realize the amount of pressure I’ve put on myself. It’s been a year now. A year of me not working, not earning a paycheck. And every day I feel like things have to happen, that something HAS to happen, because I’ve put a year into this now.

I applied for a job at a dog kennel this morning, and have an interview with them this afternoon. It’s happening faster than I thought, but maybe working will help me gain momentum again. I’ve been dragging through this second draft, hardly making any progress, and I think part of it is because of the pressure I’ve been feeling. Every time I sit down at my laptop, I see where I’m at, and I know I have SO much work left to go. And it freezes me up a little. Maybe if I start working again, it will take some of the pressure off and allow me to feel more relaxed, more free, less restricted. And maybe some structure would help, too.

My biggest fear is that if I start working again, I’ll set my draft aside, and lose the past year.

But I need to do something, because lately I’ve started slipping. I haven’t put my all into it. I need to do something to get on track. I want to try my hardest, but for some reason I hold myself back.

Lots of things swimming half-formed in my head today, lots of things I’m quietly mulling over, not fully grasping yet, but that I know are there.

I just want to make progress. I just want to be able to feel proud of myself, to know I got it done. But how can I want it, and then not seem to be able to get it done? I don’t know. Brains are weird. I confuse myself when I start thinking about how I feel, sometimes.

But anyways, just wanted to check in with some of the things I’m thinking through today. Rejection isn’t bad – it’s a part of this writing process. And I had a wonderfully nice, supportive first rejection. But something is holding me back from continuing to make progress. Hoping a job could help, not hinder.



I’m starting to revert back to night owlish ways – sitting down to start writing for the day at night (often after midnight, like tonight). Got to keep an eye on that – I need to try to maintain a normal work schedule. Because I don’t have a real job with a schedule or structure right now, I could see myself slipping real easily back into old habits, writing until 3 or 4 in the morning, then sleeping in to 11 or 12. No bueno.

But for tonight, I have to stay up at least a little late, as I didn’t get any writing done at all yet today, and I can’t go to bed until I have (also, I’m just not even close to sleepy yet). So now I’m here with my glass of red wine and a candle lit, and I have to churn out a little bit of something. 

Okay, stop blogging now. Go get some actual work done.

So, in summary,

let me try and catch you up.

A few months ago I had a moment of insanity. I wish I could call it a brief moment, but it was really more of a long, drawn out process where I hated my job and thought about what I wanted to do (write books), and continued to go to work and hate my job and think about writing and, well, it went on and on.

And then I quit. My job.

I didn’t give it much thought – I just knew I couldn’t be there any more. And I knew there was something that I loved burning inside me that I had to try and get out before it charbroiled me from the inside out. And so I quit. I didn’t really believe I had quit until it was actually my last day, and then it sort of hit me that I’d made a pretty big decision.

I spent the next week sitting around my house, completely overwhelmed by what I’d done. I didn’t write much, if anything. I just kind of kept thinking, “I need to write something. This is what I quit my job for. So I need to write now.”

I had talked to my husband before I quit and he was incredibly supportive, like he has been so many times in the past. But I’ve been amazed by how generous and patient and understanding he has been with me the past few months as I try to get my act together. He knew I wanted to truly pursue writing before I even fully realized it. He’s believed in me like no one has before. He’s helped give me structure  and time and space to try and write.

But still, I’ve been struggling. It’s all been rather terrifying, so far. And I haven’t achieved a whole lot yet. But I’m trying not to look at what I haven’t done. I need to start focusing on what I have done. And so I’ve created this blog to keep track of what I do every day now – how much I’ve written, what I’ve written, if I’ve submitted anything anywhere…I still feel scared, but if I keep busy enough maybe I won’t notice that feeling anymore. Maybe I’ll start feeling productive instead.