Creating delightenment ain’t easy!
In a nutshell, my delightenment looks like this: I wake up around 7 am, watch The Today Show while eating a delectable breakfast (which at two points involves a nicely-warmed chocolate croissant,) shower, put on all-new fresh pajamas, go out on the veranda of my oceanside cottage with my slim little red laptop, write short stories at my leisure (pronounced lezh’-yur) while sipping mimosas, then eat a lunch my personal chef has prepared, then return back out to the veranda to watch a little bit of Law & Order on my red laptop, followed by a quick sex & snooze session with my wealthy husband, followed by a quick jaunt to Paris where I’m speaking about my whirlwind success at a star-studded black tie affair at the Hotel Warwick Champs Elysées followed by a return to my oceanside cottage where my wealthy husband is waiting for me with a rose, a whiskey and a card that reads, “Marry me a million times, you beautiful, funny, talented, but mostly beautiful woman, you!”
I have no doubt all that is mere months away. Sooner, even. I have that kind of raw, powerful belief in my ability to make it happen. I can envision it so much it makes my brain fart a little.
But, my boyfriend tells me, before I get there, I’m going to have to do a little work. And some of that work includes selling myself to editors and publishers and the like–convincing the powers that be that I am the writer they’ve been looking for all their lives. Or since last week when all their favorite freelancers went on a freelancer group ski trip and all fell over into an icy ravine.
I’m aware that my road to my delightenment will be paved in part with rejection. I’ve angrily dubbed one editor at Boulder’s Daily Camera the Unattractive and Unbuff Ned Flanders; his unfashionably late e-mail response to my inquiries about freelance work was “I haven’t responded because 1) I’m swamped, 2) I currently have a stable of freelancers and 3) (and most important) I’m awaiting word as to whether my freelance budget is about to be cut.” Totally unnecessary, dude. And, what editor worth his AP stylebook 1) shuts the door of his “stable” in the face of fresh talent and 2) admits in writing he views his writers as work horses? I responded with equal measures of sugar and huff something like, “Bite me, you tired old cranky has-been. I’m a thoroughbred anyway, and I run freeeeeee! You’re nothing but an unattractive and unbuff Ned Flanders!”
Um…methinks you will not be seeing my byline in the Daily Camera.
I’m learning that little setbacks, minor stalls and fleeting disappointments are to be expected as I forge ahead creating this new me. And honestly, it really is all a part of the excitement and fun of it. I just have to always remember that.
If it were easy, everyone would be doing it–merging onto this wacky, zig-zaggy, swervy-curvy street I’m on. And really, who wants to sit in traffic on the road to delightenment?
Til next time!