Whoever said patience is a virtue must have been talking to a writer. I used to think I was a very patient person, until the self-publishing venture proved otherwise. Everything that relies on the actions of someone else now makes me devolve into a muttering lunatic on the verge of temporary (?) insanity. He probably forgot all about the project. Should I check in to make sure she got the manuscript, or at least, she isn't dead? Why isn't the bloody proof available yet? When the hell am I going to get paid? What's taking so @#$%^&* long!?
Lack of patience must be the curse every writer endures. Even with the knowledge that publishing moves slowly, somehow, the dream of a quick turnaround hasn't completely vanished. Any hope of improvement for my impatient state flew out of the window, as I contacted the Turkish agency handling the translation deal for Sultana and Sultana's Legacy. Since they sent confirmation of receiving the signed contact five weeks, the publisher must have also signed by now. Yes? No, actually. Goddammit!!
It's not as if there aren't other things to do. There's the family and work I've benignly neglected for months while working like a madwoman on The Burning Candle. Surely, the family understands. Right? I may still have friends who'll talk to me after my weeks of self-imposed solitude - better check in now and let THEM know I'm not dead. The chapters of Sultana II - Two Sisters are going well, thanks to years of research and a detailed outline, but the first draft isn't complete. The final details of the party planning need my attention (really should talk to those friends and family soon, or no one will attend).
I'm left with three choices - throw myself enthusiastically into these other tasks, become a stark raving lunatic, or end up like that guy in the image above, waiting impatiently. If past behaviors are any predictor of the future, I can guess which way this will go. Can you?