I stayed up until just before dawn this morning to work on my most recent project and after clacking away at the keys until I was afraid the sun would rise before I slept a wink, I discovered I had made real progress. When I woke up after only four hours of sleep, I propped up my pillows and pulled out my laptop, excited to read what I had written. I was pleasantly surprised that I still liked it. In fact, it was pretty good. I was delighted, even though it was just me saying so.
As soon as I finished telling myself how good I was, I surfed through my social networks, discovering a comment on a post of mine that made my entire day. Suddenly I was wide awake despite my lack of sleep.
I read the comment to myself and then yelled for my husband to read it again to him.
“I do believe that I have just read about twenty of your posts in a row, and read the Bikini Wax Disaster, and all three snippets of your books. And I have never laughed so hard at posts or wanted to read more of anyone's books so much. So thank you.”
Because I forgot to ask if I could print her name here, I won’t. But I can tell you, not only did her kind words make my day, they made me happy to be a writer.
And some days, being a writer isn’t easy.
The search for an agent is ongoing and it seems there is always something to edit, revise, and rewrite.
I count myself lucky to have so many people who enjoy what I do almost as much as I do. And at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters.
Then again, since I’m quoting people tonight, I have it on good authority you should check out Suddenly Sorceress (in the books tab at the top of the page) if you haven’t already. According to a recent survey conducted in my living room, 2 out of 3 people want it to be published so they can buy a copy in the store tomorrow.
I guess that means I need to continue clacking away at the keys well into the night to finish it as soon as possible.
It’s a good thing I’m getting used to sleepless nights.
Until the next time…I’ll be burning that candle at both ends again.