So I had planned out a whimsical, benign post. But honestly, I just don’t feel it today.
I recently read someone compare the search for an agent to being bipolar. How true. I find myself alternating between feelings of pure confidence and hopefulness to the way down, dark pit of despair. A request has me flying high, sure that everything is right with the world. A poorly time rejection rips the rug right out, and I feel like I’m wasting my time. Right now I am feeling down, defeated. I don’t even know why because this week has been very quiet. I’ve had no responses to my queries, nor to my partial or full requests. Yet I can’t shake this feeling, this fatigue with the process.
Some of this surely has to do with hearing stories of those who have landed agents, the speedy time which it took. Oh, Agent X receives query and then magically two weeks later a contract is being signed. *Sigh* I knew going in this was going to take time, and be hard. I knew all this but in that same way that I knew childbirth was going to be painful, messy. Yet you don’t really know until you are in the thick of it, breathing heavy, trying to focus on that positive glimmer all the while ignoring the pain, the exhaustion.
Maybe this is just the winter too, wearing me down. It happens every year. Moving to Northeast Ohio just exacerbates the problem, the never ending gray sky greets me, day in and day out. I need sunshine, I need to feel the warmth of it on my skin. It wakes up my soul. Thank God I was finally able to book our family Spring trip to Captiva Island. I can’t wait until March. We have never been to the island, but it sounded nice, quiet. Warm. I need something to look forward to. My new edition of A Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh arrived yesterday. She wrote it on Captiva. It gives me a glimmer of hope, somehow.