How much time do you think you spend waiting for something or someone?

Courtesy Stuart Miles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Waiting is not easy to measure. But I think we can all agree-waiting is an essential part of our day-to-day lives.

Waiting is not the real issue though. It’s how you wait that matters.

I’m going to bet whether you are waiting for something. Maybe you’re waiting for water to boil, a fish to bite, your seafood to arrive in the mail, a marriage proposal or a promotion.

Me? I’m waiting to hear from an agent whether the publisher bought my SALMON manuscript and I’m waiting for salmon recipes from chefs who agreed to donate a recipe for the book.

Courtesy vectorolie/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Courtesy vectorolie/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

 

Waiting on someone else’s schedule is hard work.

While I do the agent/writer dance and wait for those last few recipes to arrive in my inbox, I found that waiting for something as big as this has me doing things with an energy level I wish I had all the time. I can’t delude myself into always thinking I have an agent and I’m merely waiting, that would be insane. But the thought of having this I need to get things done now energy is priceless.

But it’s not necessarily the items on my weekly calendar that are getting done. Yes, I’m getting some of those things done. But not all. Clothes stay hung and wrinkled in the laundry room. Yes, I iron clothes! The second article in my Monterey Bay Aquarium Salon series, Seafood, the one I mentioned in the last post? Yep. Planned to post this week, but once I got the agent letter for representation, the waiting began.

I no longer am on a normal schedule or have a normal state of mind, whatever that is. My days are filled with anxiety. I am obsessive-compulsive about my email.

While I wait, I stay busy. Very busy.

I blanch and freeze copious amounts of sweet corn. I bake bread and peanut butter cookies for my neighbor (whose husband is in the hospital and son is wheelchair bound.) I edit essays for my critique group, Center Street Writers’ Guild, and pitch online journals with story ideas about conservation. I walk faster. I develop and research recipe ideas that involve salmon, Alaskan spot prawns, pork butt, somen noodles, sweet corn, heirloom tomatoes, snapper, pie crust. Not all for one recipe though.

I wait. I fret. Is the book too short? Or too long? Is it good enough? Do I have smooth transitions? Enough commas? Too many commas? Enough recipes? Diverse enough recipes? Easy-to-read instructions? Strong headlines? The right format? Enough followers? Will those chefs really commit? Should I send another email? (If you are one of those chefs, please send the recipe.)

See what I mean? Waiting is hard.

If you are still here, I thank you.

Verlasso Salmon (verlasso.com)

Now that I got that off my chest, I can go back to review a chapter in the SALMON manuscript. But first I need to check my email.

What are you waiting for these days and how do you cope?