The In-Between

Before I write anything on paper or type it on my computer, I play with the words in my head. If you ever catch me staring off into the distance, looking at something that isn’t there, I’m writing. I’ve latched onto an idea and I can’t let it go until I work out the words. This blog post is one of those times. I’ve thought about it for days, sitting in traffic, waiting my turn at the doctor’s office, compounding flavors.

Because of the days it’s taken me to word this right, because of the thoughts I’m putting here, this blog post will be more like a journal entry than any of my others. I don’t journal anymore, but I journaled for years. (And have just now been informed by Word that journaled isn’t a verb. Too bad. I’m keeping it here.)

The last time I was serious about putting my thoughts down for no one but myself, I was living in Paris. I was passport-less and trapped in a city of dreams. That was years ago. More recently, I turned those journal entries into a novel. It took a few months to write it and another few months to revise. I queried that novel, but nothing came of it.

I should feel something about that nothing…but I don’t. I’ve written other novels, one of which I queried years ago to no avail. I also see failed experiences as just that—experience. I’ve learned a lot since I began writing that Paris novel. I learned even more since I gave it up. I learned that I won’t give up my dream, even after another failure. I can’t.

As the last days of my last query experience waned, I began entering another novel in writing contests. You can read past blog posts if you want to know how that went, but I probably don’t need to tell you I didn’t get what I wanted out of the experience.

Or did I? Though I didn’t make it far in those contests, I made many writer friends. I also found a critique partner and my critique partner group. Since I met my CPs, I’ve given up contests. This sounds more impressive than it is. (Or maybe it doesn’t.) It’s easy to give up contests when there aren’t any. It’s also easy when you’re so busy that sometimes you forget to have fun.

I have a cousin who goes to a private high school. She’s prepping to get into the college of her dreams so she can go on to med school and become a doctor. She’s driven, dedicated, and will make her dream come true. Still, I remind her to have fun. High school only comes round once and she has to cherish it.

I feel this same way about my writing experiences. I say that in the midst of all this CP work that I’ve forgotten to have fun, but that’s not true. For someone like me, words are fun. What more is there than words? I love to dive into a story, mine or someone else’s, and dig deep for those words that’ll make the story exceptional, irresistible. I’m wrapped so tightly into my CPs’ stories and my own that I dream I’m inside them. In my waking hours when I’m not at work, I’m here at my computer, reading and writing words. I don’t like to tear myself away from them. In fact, when one of my CPs mentioned she’s working on another story, I told her I wanted to read it. I told her I’d beg if I had to.

I’m so wrapped up in our stories that I almost lose sight of my dream, our goal. I’m helping them revise so they can query and get an agent. The same for them with my story. No matter, I tell myself—that goal is so far away that it doesn’t matter. Because we’re in a group, it takes us awhile to get through our chapters. I revel in this. Revising is easy, relaxing, and helps me forget that at some point I won’t be revising anymore. I’ll be querying.

I cringe when I read those words. I’d like to hide in this in-between forever. I like where am I, reading and writing words, pretending that this is all there is. Here, hope is perpetual because it’s always in the future. Here, there is no waiting for emails, no stalking my phone for news in my inbox. Here, there’s no rejection. I could stay here forever if it weren’t for my dream. I’ll have to tear myself away from revisions someday, but today’s not that day. Today, I’m going to revise a few of my words and read some revisions a CP sent me. When I’m finished with that, I’m going to pick up a book and delve into someone else’s words. I’ll stay here, in this in-between, for as long as I can.