I have to start by saying it's all my fault. My DH took me for a nice lunch at a sushi place (never his choice) last Friday. So today was bonus. That said, I still wish men could somehow visualize the romantic dreams women have about this day. Stores display flowers, decorated cookies and cupcakes, heart-shaped candy boxes, some decorated with frilly pink lace and rose. And I got...soup.
As I said, my fault. He texted me to ask what I wanted for Valentine's Day. Sort-of like, "Okay, I'll stop at the store on my way home, but I don't really want to." I almost didn't answer, because I sensed no motivation in him. So I answered, "Some soup or a treat from the hospital cafeteria, or a book from the local bookstore." I have to admit I liked the book idea much more. But he was sick, and I gave him an easy out. I waited, hoping for a book. He got me the soup. It was good soup, gourmet spinach and mushroom. And I asked for it. So why do I feel a bit neglected?
How does this connect to writing? Unlike my spouse, I love shopping. But submitting my work is difficult for me. It isn't that it terrifies me, I can even handle the rejections (after a day or so of too much chocolate.) But it's unpleasant and difficult to decide where to send. Major manuscript revision is even tougher for me.
Last year I won a writing contest. I submitted the book to two agents with high hopes. One agent was kind, but pointed out what she saw as a major flaw in the book. So I put it aside and got to work on my new book. I love my new one, and think it's some of my most marketable work to date. However, I wonder now if I took the soup course. It's time soon to go back and figure out how to change my previous two manuscripts. And have the courage to revisit that really bad chapter book and see if I can get it ready for Mike Knudson's excellent workshop at WIFYR. If I avoid what's difficult in writing, then all I'm going to end up with is . . . more soup.