The night before a big day, I don't get to sleep. Because whether I'm excited or dreading it, I just want the hours to pass by faster. It's a good thing I don't have Adam Sandler's fancy clicker from that movie everyone hated, or I'd be fast forwarding through all the good stuff.
Life and writing are about the journey, right? Not the destination?
Now that I'm a plotter more than a pantster, once I get a new novel loosely plotted, I want to skip to the end. I want to fast forward and start revising, of course I can't do that because the dang thing isn't written.
And what's with the all the really cool contests online? I want to play! I really do. I want to participate in first page critiques and secret agent contests and pitch contests. But I don't have a finished book (we aren't even going to talk about novel number 1, which is finished, but not worth the paper it's printed on).
To add insult to injury, whenever I think of the word patience, I think of this song from my childhood, and it gets stuck in my head. Earworm Alert: Don't listen unless you want to hear this darn turtle sing for the rest of your life. Or maybe that's just me. If you do listen, wait for the turtle and try not to laugh.
I've always heard to keep your stuff underwraps until it's done, and polished and ready to go. Because you never know what could happen. So I'm patiently waiting and then trying to focus on what's important - finishing my novel(s). I'll get there. Eventually.
What's your take on it? Do you reveal your babies before they are ready for the limelight in that contest you've always wanted to take part in, or do you wait, knowing your day will come?