Anyway, it’s like–remember how at the end of the fall semester you were all, I don’t wanna write my final papers, I just wanna lay on the floor in the lounge and stare at the Christmas lights and eat these sugar cookies I stole from the dining hall? It’s like that. I don’t wanna revise. I want to buy endless amounts of shiny red things to put in my house. But I can’t keep procrastinating. That is not the way dreams are accomplished.
First, though, let me point you in the direction of this very honest post by Natalie Whipple about the ups and downs of her publishing journey so far: What Happens When It IS You. I admire her determination and her bravery in posting about how hard it’s been. I was lucky to get an agent quickly, so I haven’t been at it so long, but I commiserate with how awful a failed submission can be. Shelving a book is hard, even if it’s not necessarily forever. And if feels like maybe you shouldn’t mention it much until you do sell because then what will people think?
You know what? Eff ’em.
And when I say them, I mean my own doubts too. Those perfidious, insidious little whispers. I’m a better writer than I was a year ago. Thrice is a better book than Garolass. Cate is a stronger, more active protagonist. I have an awesome agent who has faith in me.
I have faith in me. It’s still there, deep down, beneath the fear and the whispers.
It’s going to happen. It’s just a question of when.