I know these things take time. I know you need the time to become perfect. Because if you're not and we send you out into the world, the world will chew you up and spit you out. But, oh, my, have you changed since you first peeked your way into the world. And even that took a while. We had all these plots twists, turns, locations, neat places, tons of characters. Then we set you aside and then looked at you again and suddenly you were less places and different characters. How does this happen? Then we took turns and you changed a bit more and got shorter. Which is good, I guess, since you are for the middle graders.
I am so embarrassed when I say, "We're really nearly done," and come to find that we really nearly aren't. I don't even want to say it anymore. But coming up on two and a half years, I really think this labor process is taking a long while. Even my first born at 22 hours is nothing compared to you. You need to be done already. Got it? I really think you are ready to shine on your own. For heaven's sake, we wrote a kick-ass logline about you. You should be proud to show yourself off. I'm hoping the query letter is just as kick-ass. Because it is time that some other people got to share you.
So, if this time I say, "We are really close," be a dear, and make sure that we're there. Because there's a few other babies swirling around in my head that need to get going. Having a full-time job, while being a full-time mom and a part-time writer is a bit hard. So it would be nice to say we finished something. Okay?
P.S.--plus, my fortieth birthday is coming up, so that would be a nice present, don't you think?
Swift on Her Feet, Light on My heart
2 hours ago