For months, I was ecstatic because I cleared that first hurdle (Oh, geez, sports metaphors now? WHO AM I?). I got a literary agent! Someone to validate the hours I spend avoiding people!
And now I'm waiting for that next official step, the acceptance of a publisher.
I figured it would take FOREVER, but what I don't think was clear to me was how long FOREVER would feel, every single day stretching onward without knowing, and then weeks, and then months pass. And the impatient person who sometimes takes control of my mouth starts shouting, WHEN? WHEN? CAN'T THEY SEE I'M BRILLIANT? (The impatient person lacks humility. Let us pray for her.)
To be honest, there are lots of days I don't think about it. There may have even been an entire week (see every post I've ever posted on the craziness of life as a foster parent) at some point when I didn't think about it.
But at other times, I'm so eager to see my book published, to be able to pass copies along to my friends, to go into bookstores and see it among those other amazing books that when I'm there, I make a little gap on the shelf where it's supposed to be, where I believe that, one day, it will be.
And I think, right there--that's my spot.
And then I think about that POSSIBILITY, and even with all the waiting, I know I would never want to do or be anything else.