Is in two places right now, and I am waiting. Waiting for a positive answer, hopefully. I check my email a good ten times a day and while it loads I hold my breath.
It's amazing how this process works, it is so time consuming and yet it is all for the hope of a chance. Everyday I am more and more grateful for the readers I have now, it is so nice to have that connection so simply.
I have a certain and uncertain time I am required to wait while the manuscript is considered. There are moments in the day that I try to send the story positive energy, which is probably stupid. I think of my sweet homeless soul, who really only lives in my head, but he is in so many hearts I feel like he is real in a way. Mouse and the knitting needles? His story, his chapter. I want to run my hands over it and know that he is being remembered by someone else as well.
When I have doubts, (which, oh my gosh, is all the time) I try and picture my favorite scenes and believe in them.
Lick, bite, blow.
When he plays the piano and the music falls over her like a waterfall outside the church.
The sorry tattoo, and how she erased it in the sun.
My mobster, so vicious and so determined to protect his brothers.
It's still so real to me, though the story was complete a long time ago now.
So I guess this is an update of my losing my mind just a little bit, the more I try the more I want it. The more I learn, the more I realize it is such a hard thing to put into reality.