Sometimes
life just gets in the way of what we really want to be doing.
And
sometimes things aren’t as they appear.
I’ve been
writing Journeyers, much like this
post where I talk about Joan Didion and Abigail Thomas, I’ve been penning
words to paper and banging them out on my keyboard.
But here’s
what else I’ve been doing.
Updating my
query for Digging for the Light.
Yes…
I should be
devoting more time to that endeavor, but the research and effort that goes into
finding an agent that you might suit (and whom might also suit your long term
goals) is exhausting.
And here’s
the rub: If we’re not writing, then we’re not writers.
I’m finding
it difficult to Mom, Bookkeep, Work, Brainstorm, Teach, Write and Research, and Sleep.
Darned that
Evil Slumber!
But here’s
the thing, I’ve had this dream for twenty-three years now.
Actually, I
first dreamt of becoming a writer when I was twelve years old and lay sunbathing on my
sidewalk, fantasizing about being the world’s youngest author.
That day
might have long come and gone, but I’ve had this desire for most of my life and
I’m not giving up on her.
When I
begin to feel defeated or like it will never happen or start beating myself
over the head with a hammer, I remember that the road may
be long and windy, but slowly and steadily I’m winning the race.
So, anywho, I’m off to finish dusting off
that query and tailor it to someone I think (hope, pray, beg, plead, and have
strategized toward) might just be a match.
And I’m
hoping this opening line, one I spent years pairing down and honing in on,
lures her in.
Wish me
luck, my magical friends!
Hugs and
healing!
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