So, I’m playing the waiting game right now...and I don’t like it. I’ve submitted a few articles to be considered for publication in various sources and I’m trying to pretend it doesn’t bother me when junky, spammy emails land in my inbox instead of an acceptance note.
I wasn’t wired with patience, so playing this game when I want answers instead is agonizing for me.
I try to busy myself with other things because as a writer, we’re told to “write and submit, write and submit and repeat.” Great advice, actually. Once we send off little bits and pieces of our heart and soul to a publisher, it’s done. It’s gone. No more editing. No more chances to shine up that first impression. It is what it is and we’re left with those heart-stopping moments at when our eyes fly open and we gasp, “Did I remember to put a title on that thing? Oh, I just know they’re going to hate it. That’s it. I’m washed up. Done. I should just sell my computer and forget about ever writing another word.”
But really, the only thing we can do is move on to the next dream. The next thought and goal. Why? Because it’s what we do. We’re not writing for someone else, really. We’re writing because we have words that kick and wrestle to breathe, to pull back the curtains of our very soul and give light to that which God Himself has nestled deep down in the very heart of each one of us.
God's Word tells me in Romans 12:12:
“Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.”
So, I shall.