Waiting, waiting, waiting.

I had submitted my work to 5 publishers and 1 agent. The websites for each one were very open and honest and advised that in some cases it can take up to 5 months to reply.

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Apparently, there are very large slush piles of unread submissions somewhere on shelves in England, waiting to be read and their magic discovered. I visualised these piles of dusty papers whilst I waited and waited. 

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However, a great lover of effective time management (sad but true, I blame it on the process of becoming an institutionalised corporate being) I wasn’t going to sit idly by relying on one manuscript to turn my world around. There was much more about this craft to learn and many more genres to explore.

I began researching all things relating to creative writing, all types of publishing methods and anything that had “advice to the new writer”. I read books on writing (Stephen King’s “On Writing” is one I recommend). I read magazines on writing. I trawled the internet following link after link on the topic of writing until my eyes stung.

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I was becoming obsessed. In fact it was an infatuation. I was falling in love with writing all over again. 

2 thoughts on “Waiting, waiting, waiting.

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