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Monday, July 25, 2005

This Is The Blog Post Where Lois Lane Complains About Stuff

Someone call the whhhaaambulance.

Woke up with sleep clinging to my eyes. In no mood for anything. Tired. I started up the computer. It's going to be a busy day of writing and sending letters to drum up new clients. My books are in a holding pattern, this week, awaiting an agent to scoop me up. Maybe I need to flash my Imogenes to land one.

As a freelance writer, I'm always writing a letter to someone, pitching a story about something, selling my skill, selling my ideas, selling my words, hoping to find someone who will need me regularly. It's mostly a pain in the ass. A whole bunch of letters go out, maybe two positive responses come back. It's hard to sell yourself or skill in a concise letter.

"Dear Santa, I've been a little naughty and a little nice. I'd like a bunch of money, 'cuz what I got won't suffice."

I wonder what it feels like to say, "I'm sorry. As much as I would love to be part of your book, I am under contract and can only work with who my publisher assigns me to work with."

I know what it feels like reading those words in a letter, addressed to me. It sucks big hairy donkey balls.

I put my feelers out to a well-known illustrator, she is someone I know, someone I have interviewed, someone who is very talented, someone I have talked on the phone with and someone I actually thought I had a chance with. Not so much, apparently. Can I take all of those superlatives back now?

I wrote a children's book a while ago. I collaborated with an illustrator who is amazing. He can draw what I see in my mind. We just clicked. He, unfortunately, has been dragging his heels. Sure he is busy having a regular job and family, life, etcetera, but I have come to realize this book, which ultimately will be a series of books, is merely a pipedream for him.

I called him the other day to tell him, I just can't wait anymore. He said he would call me back because he was headed into a meeting. He never called. That's when my feelers started moving, twitching, zinging through my body like lighting bolts tapping my every nerve.

Should I put my life and goals on hold for someone because they forgot to call back? Should I seek out other options, even though we clicked, even though he is awesome? Should I put that book on the backburner and work on my other projects in the meantime?

So many questions are racing through my mind.

The first feeler coming back as a "No" isn't too terribly upsetting. I think she would really like to work with me and just can't. She and I clicked the first time we met too. I think I might send a friendly letter to her publisher. Make a contact. Get my name out there. Maybe the publisher will say something to her about me. Maybe she will offer good feedback. Maybe it's a waste of time.

Today all of my feelers are going out for my freelance work. If I've not been by your home in Blogland, sorry. My fuck off time has been very limited lately. I miss reading all of you guys and appreciate all of your e-mails and comments.

Mr. Lane received 47 e-mails/comments for his birthday and told me to thank you guys. He had no idea how many e-friends I have here at Home Fires. Katey has a great picture of him posted from her visit to the Lane Estate. I'm in the picture too but look like shit. It's hard to look sexy when you are humping a leg.