Today I turned 45. I didn’t know how old I was. My husband told me.
My-husband-told-me.
He’s 44, so by association, he knows I’m 45. I have a son turning 16 this summer and a daughter who is 14. I’ve got a 4 year old dog and an 8 week old puppy. The chicks in our barn are 5 days old and we’ve been living in our home since 2007. I have 3 more years to pay off my business loan and I started writing my first novel while I was on maternity leave with my son in 2005.
That’s right. I’ve been on this writing journey for 15 years.
What is time? Really? How long does it take to master another career and fulfill a dream? How do you know when you’re done? Where is the finish line?
How can I not know my own age? Why don’t I keep track?
It’s likely for the same reason I don’t track my writing progress or compare my writing journey to others. I don’t count my daily words or obsess over other writer’s success.
When a friend gets a short story published, I’m legitimately happy for them.
I don’t track my word count as I write. I don’t count my completed novels.
I love retweeting other author’s book birthday Tweets and I wish I could attend a million book launch parties. It doesn’t bother me in the least to see other’s succeed.
So, why am I bothered, now, in my 45th year, to not have a published novel?
Why today, of all days? Why now? Why do I suddenly care so much on what should be a happy day; a day for blowing out candles, eating cake and celebrating? Why am I festering today? I don’t care about the wrinkles or grey hairs, so why do I care about this?
On this querying quest, some agent replies have bombed my inbox a tortuous 9 months after I sent the query, while others, the day after. I’ve waited, checking my inbox repetitively, day after day and then, after I thought too much time had passed, I questioned everything and sent my opening pages out for a second eye, only to get feedback that has me questioning everything. Then, the following week, I got a FULL MANUSCRIPT REQUEST from an amazing, experienced agent.
So, now… what is time?
How much time does it take to revisit your beloved pages? How do you read the 2 recommended writing craft novels and apply their brilliant advice to a 90,000 word novel in a reasonable amount of time? When an agent requests your full manuscript, when do they expect it? The next morning? The next week? The next month? Writerly friends have advised me to send it within 7 days.
The count in on!
So, now we come full circle. It’s my birthday and more than anything, I want… time. More time to write. More time to commit and turn the rest of the world off. It seems that along this writing journey, life happened. I got married—if you need to know how long we’ve been married—ask my husband. I bought into a veterinary practice. My children grew up and yet they aren’t old enough to drive themselves to their commitments. Our farm grew and we built a chicken barn. Life happened and life requires me to show up.
Does this mean I’m not committed or willing to give time to my writing? Not at all.
If I can live happily without keeping track of how old I am, I can certainly stop worrying about counting these writing landmarks today, of all days. I’ve made it to 45 without paying too much attention and in all honestly, my life is pretty damn amazing.
Therefore, I’m vowing today, on my birthday, to be ok with the road, no matter how long it takes.
For today, I’ll polish my pages and send them off to the agent. Happy Birthday to me.
