There’s nothing more painful than waiting for agents to email you back. It’s like asking someone to the prom and the response is: “Hey douchebag, I’ll get back to you in a month . . . if I feel like it. In the meantime, don’t buy a dress.”
I’ve been spending too much time kicking myself that I no longer kept in touch with any of my publishing pals in my wayward years, lamenting the fact that I used to read slush and held the power to slam my gavel while eating free pizza. I know I said I’ll only post if I had something worthwhile, but that’s like waiting for SNL to get good again, or understanding any of the humor in Anchorman 2. So, I’ll write a list of good distractions for other writers out there like me, waiting for their Sally Field moment.
1. Blog. As you can see I’ve spruced this badboy up just a bit and wasted exactly two hours. I really liked the old pinnacle, but it was extremely phallic, and I got lazy about changing things up, because whenever I go to Dashboard to tinker with WordPress, I have flashbacks to failing tech and I’m afraid I’ll erase the whole damn thing. Why my feet felt more appropriate is beyond me, but it does remind me to start scheduling more pedicures in the New Year.
2. Breaking Bad. I started watching a month ago and didn’t leave my house until I looked like an extra in it. Yo. It’s that additive.
3. Read. I’ve been a reading machine. But reading can create animosity. The critical eye can be a total killjoy. Note to self: stay away from all celebrity books or you’ll go full OJ Simpson on the poor bookstore clerks.
4. Get a puppy. Needy. Distracting. They’re like a newborn. You’ll lose contact with the entire outside world, find yourself in a supermarket at 2 am in your PJs buying chow, staring at US Weekly in the checkout line, wondering who the hell those 10-year-olds on the cover are. And when did that chick from Hannah Montana go off the meds that kept her herpes-colored tongue in her mouth and her devil horns in her skull?
5. Query just before the holidays, then spend 6 weeks of festive debauchery, hangovers, mall brawls, tinsel hanging, family gatherings where you wonder how you’re related and the cruelty of it all. Then if the agents never get back to you, blame the holidays.
6. Travel. I got yanked around to four different houses and places until I woke up and thought I was Cher from the 70s. From my cowboy side in the middle of cattle country, to my husband’s more refined New York side, in the span of one week:
From this (Phx Sunset):
To this (GW Bridge, view of NYC):
From Hayden working on the ranch:
To Hayden snow blowing:
7. And lastly, the only really useful tip: start writing a new book.
Happy New Year!