Friday, May 29, 2009

Adrift

My agent is busy this week with BEA and a writer's conference and all sorts of actual non-Scott-related business. Which means that I've heard nothing from him about the revisions I sent off. Which doesn't surprise me. I don't expect to find anything out for at least another week, possibly longer. And that, surprisingly enough, is fine. I was asked last night if I'm nervous about my agent's response, if I'm dying with anticipatory dread and obsessing over the time it's taking for him to read the revisions. The answer is no, I'm not.

I find that mostly, I feel like I've finished that project and I can move on with my life. I have no expectations that anything will come of this. Part of me believes I'll never hear a word back from my agent, and that'll be the end of that. It's as if these last three months have been a manic dream, and I've awakened to find myself in my own life again, with my same job and apartment and day-to-day concerns. Nothing, really, has changed and I don't expect anything to change.

Without the surreal pressure of revisions, I am however at loose ends, cast adrift in my life again. I get home after work, make some dinner, play some music, clean my bathroom, do laundry, vacuum the floors, read a bit, watch DVDs...and I'm not revising a book. Nor, frankly, am I doing much in the way of writing my next one. I have a pile of research materials on my table, hundreds of pages of reading, and a couple of non-fiction books on the shelf, but I'm ignoring all of it right now. The books and research papers look at me askance, wondering why I don't turn my attention to them, but they can wait a bit longer.

I am enjoying this feeling of drifting, of floating just offshore, of having no obligations to literature or my next project. It'll all come to an end at some point when I pick up a pen and start hacking away at my half-finished outline for the next book. But for now I am content to drift.

8 comments:

  1. When I lap swim, I like to do a slow backstroke between sets of butterfly or freestroke. This post reminded me of that feeling.

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  2. "The books and research papers look at me askance,"

    Are you sure that's not just the money you could be saving by switching to Geico?

    Well I, for one, certainly hope that something does come of this. You have shown yourself to be of above-average intelligence and you are a talented writer. I'll be among your first readers when you book is published.

    IN the meantime, a bit of decompression time will surely help you approach your next WiP with a clear head.

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  3. But I thought you said you were super super busy, Mr. Bailey, and that the The Literary Lab would suffer because of it. Hmmm, adrift... well, enjoy! Because we have this coming week off thanks to those volunteer bloggers who will do all the work for us!

    I hope you hear from your agent soon. I don't see how he could possibly never contact you again. Silly. :D

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  4. Sometimes drifting is good. It feels nice to not have the noose of writing hanging over you. So just enjoy being a drifter!

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  5. Michelle: I'm super busy at work, and sadly the busiest hours for blogging are those same work hours! When I get home, I'm exhausted. That might have something to do with my willingness to drift along just now.

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  6. Drifting can be heavenly, especially between bouts of heavy work (or at the end of a trying day).

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  7. Ahh, makes sense. Good luck with work, then! Drift when you can. :)

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