...waiting...

There are so many things I love about writing-- the way the books seems to take shape of its own accord, the way scenes never quite work out the way you imagine them, how the perfect sentence sends shivers through your spine. I love immersing myself in a world of my own creation. I love sipping coffee and pounding at the keyboard day after day. I love the routine, the dedication.
But there is one thing I dislike about the profession of writing (other than revision, see previous post). That is waiting. Waiting on criticism. Waiting on query responses. Waiting on submission responses.
I've never been an incredibly patient person. Especially when it comes to important things. Sure, I'll try to restrain myself for a few days. But when days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months? I start to get a little whiny. I check my email a ridiculous amount. I pout and make offhanded comments to my husband. I gnaw at my nails.
For me, waiting is so ridiculously infuriating because it's something beyond my control. There's nothing I can do to make time speed up. I can't make the agent finish reading the manuscript. I can't magically produce a response to the dozen or so queries I sent out in the past few weeks. All I can do is wait; try to forget that manuscript out with the agents. Dispel from my memory the queries floating out in the interwebs.
As you can tell by this post, I'm not so great at it. I'm trying to focus on my WIP instead of the slow inching progress of the novel I'm shopping around to agents. I hit 38K on the rough draft of my WIP today. I also realized that it could be categorized as a Southern Gothic. I'm really pleased with how it's turning out so far-- although I must say that rough drafting is usually my favorite part of a novel's creation. It's always so full of possibilities and freeing. You can write whatever you want and get away with it. Until editing that is. ;)