I am rounding up the week of the fractured foot. And it’s been so stinking DEPRESSING! I never realized what a happy camper I normally am, until I wasn’t.
Warning! Here comes the vent….WAHH! My foot hurts. All I do is sit, sit, sit on the stupid couch. I’m not motivated to get my sorry behind up and do anything because it hurts even more. My kids look at me and think, “Hey, there’s mom parked on the sofa again. What happened to our vibrant, active go get’em mama? Who is this long faced bummer gal?”
I am also depressed from the writing conference (Orange County Christian Writers Fellowship) which I attended this last weekend. I actually sat down in front of an editor from a big name publishing house and pitched my book concept . And then, miraculously he told me to submit a book proposal. (Which if you know anything about writing is like manna from heaven, because publishers almost never take random solicitations). You have to get a literary agent, and have a platform of 35,000 people and be on a speaking tour…and have all this marketing mumbo jumbo that makes my head spin around like Carrie.
So I should be happy that I got my shot, right? But then the editor says to me, after he delivers the wonderful news that he is indeed interested… “But, it might be a long shot.”
Long shot! I am no long shot! How dare he? I am Scrappy Sam the underdog. How can he not see this spunk and fire in my belly? Doesn’t it radiate from my very being?
And so now, I feel this pressure to perform and to wow him with my Scrappy Essence. Which means some major edits to my slightly scrappy manuscript. It’s possible (ok, really possible) that I somewhat haphazardly threw together the book for the writing contest I entered at the conference.
It means really sitting down and defining my voice and the direction of my book. It means getting my crap together and putting on the big girl pants.
This is serious stuff.
It’s a make it or break it moment. And even though I broke the foot, gosh darn it; I refuse to give up without a fight.
I’m getting all riled up thinking about proving Mr. Editor wrong. Of course, not enough to actually get off the sofa just yet, because I am in serious pain, but maybe enough to get my fingers tapping and get out of my funk.
To Do:
- Find theme song for motivation (Rocky, Oceans 11 soundtrack, any suggestions?)
- Ask for prayer (yes that’s you). Pretty please!
- Give myself time to heal (so hard)
- Surrender wounded ego to Lord (even harder)
