I've waited for obscenely delayed planes.
I've waited through the two longest 9-month stretches of all time, waiting for my children to be born.
I've waited through many agonizing 20 minute stretches for a 3 year old to put on his shoes "all by himself."
I've waited, glued to my phone, for job offers.
I've waited for fevers to come down and bruises to fade and babies to sleep.
I've waited for many many things.
But nothing compares to the minute-dragging, day-lagging, week-stretching delay of waiting for literary agents to respond to query letters.
Good lord, is it painful. Please read my book! they might as well say, those letters.
Good or bad, those replies are like lights in the dark. Granted, most of them are a resounding Thanks but no thanks! And that's fine. I expected that in a completely subjective line of work. I can live with it (mostly....).
Hope is one of those things we all think we want to have. I mean, really, hope is a good thing, right? But honestly, it's a tough beast. Holding out hope when there is more of the darkness than the light is the hardest. Lose hope? Give up? Then what's the point.
So I'll write. I'll query. I'll wait. And wait.
I'll get there :)
