Photo by Sixteen Miles Out on Unsplash
This week I am waiting and next week I will be waiting, too. I am trying to wait in a restrained and gentle way, although I want to jump up and down, pull my hair out, and break dishes. I really do love breaking dishes. Instead, I am sitting here at the computer releasing some of my edge by typing to you. Have you ever had a time when you were waiting like that?
I applied to the Clarion West 6-week Writing Workshop. I will, most likely, not get in. (Don’t call me on false modesty, this is true odds. I know I’m a good writer. Many excellent writers apply and there are 18 seats, it’s just odds.) But, until I am told that I haven’t gotten in, there remains a chance that I might get in. And that chance propels my nerves and the waiting.
I sent them the first 10,000 words of the second draft of my novel. The very words that I am changing right now in the third draft. They prefer 2 short stories at 5,000 words each, but I don’t have those finished and unpublished now. (I’m working on them for next year’s application.)
The Clarion West Workshop is out in Seattle for writers of speculative fiction. Everyone writes a story every week that is critiqued by the group, under the guidance of a successful writer. Everyone also gets to meet and talk with other successful writers, getting help, advice, and some mentoring. Additionally, you bond tightly with your class. It is supposed to be the most amazing experience, and many of the program’s graduates go on to have successful careers as writers and editors.
Original documents said that decisions would be made by end of March, beginning of April (or something like that). Until two days ago, I was as tightly strung as I have ever been. Then they sent out an announcement that a lot of people were calling and bugging them (!) and decisions would be made by April 15. They were still reading applications. I could exhale a little, but that only prolongs the wait.
For now, send me your best mojo or energy or prayers or whatever you have. Both for success and that I can wait gently and keep busy until the 15th. Also, cross your fingers for the poem I sent out today about my lizard-eating cat.