How long is your response time again?

What do you mean two to three weeks?

I’m a bad waiter. I want things when I want them – a spoonful of ice cream, an answer to my┬átext message, a response from that magazine.

I spent days, months, (years!) working on those sentences there, and now that I’ve submitted them, I want an answer now! Can’t you see I’m tired of waiting?

In the days immediately following a submission, I jump to check every email or notification on my phone – is that the response? Did I get rejected yet? Can I celebrate another “failure” with a scoop of exorbitantly expensive gourmet ice cream from the place down the street?

No. No I cannot. Because it is Petco reminding me to Save BIG on top food brands! or AbeBooks announcing Sale Order Confirmed!

But what if I check my email on my computer? Will that look any different than it does on my phone? It might. Let me check.

No. Nothing. Still Petco. Still AbeBooks. Oh there’s a new email! It’s a line of bold, beautiful text! What if it’s — No. Lanier Under the Lights 5K – Register Today!

“Wait and hope,” says Alexander Dumas.



I always envision that I’m going to have a lively and productive blog, and then instead I spend my time on things like writing, my job, reading, planning my wedding, training for various races, and Clash of Clans.

I’m working on a romance/adventure/heist novel that I’m hoping to start querying for in August. Every so often I send out short stories to ridiculous markets like the New Yorker.

And when people ask me what I’m doing this weekend, whether I’m going to such-and-such concert or this-and-that festival, I smile and shrug. Books don’t write themselves.