Waiting.

So. Nine weeks ago my kids started school. The very same week, I put a stack of paper containing my heart and soul into a manila envelope and mailed it to a publishing company. It was the first of my inquiries, and so far the only one that I have made. Because of the religious theme of my book, there are only a handful of publishing companies that would even entertain the idea of working with me. This makes the process of trying to get published a little different. Instead of querying agents until I find one willing to represent me, I query the publishing company directly. A little easier, and a little more terrifying all at the same time.

So. With a breath and a gulp, and a pounding heart, I handed that envelope to Mr. Postman and set myself down to the task of waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting some more.

And I'm still waiting. The estimated eight weeks of response time has come and gone and here I sit, still waiting, and utterly terrified of the sweet little woman that delivers my mail. I've been preparing myself for rejection, because really, with this being my first attempt at publication, I feel like I must. When and if it comes, there are other publishing companies that I will solicit. I'm not quite ready to entertain the possibility of rejection coming from all of them. For now, I am renewed by the hope and encouragement that comes from open possibilities. And yet, in my heart of hearts, I know rejection across the board is a true possibility. It kills me though. I love these people that I wrote about. They are so perfectly real to me, their lives such a part of my heart. To shelve them wouldn't be easy.


The nine weeks of waiting has also given me a little bit of a break. You see, I haven't been writing (not even blogging a whole lot, if you've noticed at all). The pregnancy hasn't helped. Feeling like padooky dook does little for creative energy and a will to sit upright in front of a computer. But I also just needed a breather. I worked so hard for so many months, and poured so much of myself into the creative process, it was nice to take a step back and, I don't know, get a full night's sleep for a change.

It was but a brief respite though... my fingers are already itching to start something else. Characters are climbing out of my head and holding conversations in my kitchen. I won't be able to ignore them for long.

So I will keep waiting. And while I wait, I will keep writing.

A note to all of Inkmom's readers: Baby girl arrived last night and Mom and baby are healthy and well. I won't post pictures, because well, it is Inkmom's baby and it would be rotten to steal her thunder, but I will tell you that little baby is preciously perfect and is just as beautiful as her Mamma.