You may have noticed, dearest blogging friends, that I have been somewhat absent of late, so I guess I need to make some sort of announcement regarding this. I'm not going on hiatus. I'm going on half-ass, which is a little different. My daughter is visiting from out of town for a few weeks so I will be online a lot less. I'll still pop in and take a looksee when I get a moment, but mostly I'll be in the living room watching Buffy or Angel episodes on DVD which is... what we do when we're together. I know it's not incredibly exciting, but I'm fairly poor and can't afford to eat out and hang out in theaters a lot.
During our drive back home to Texas from Colorado over the weekend, I had an epiphany of sorts. I've compared querying to fishing in a tiny boat in Lake Erie with 1,000 fish in the lake and thousands of other fishermen (fisherpersons?), and that felt pretty accurate, but now I've struck on a new, more accurate metaphor.
We're all on American Idol.
When we are at the query stage, we are that hopeful pre-fame starlet who is standing in line with a thousand other hopefuls, waiting for our chance to stand in front of three judges (agents) in the biz and have them tell us we're the most awesome thing they've seen all day. We all think we can sing (write) and we all think we have something fresh and new to offer.
We get our turn, and all eyes are focused on us. We might be a little out of tune, or possibly our dance moves look a bit like a puppet on puppet crack, but when we're done, we stand there, hopeful to have made at least one judge interested. There's plenty of Simons, aren't there? The ones who think we'll never make it. Then there's the others who see potential, but nothing they haven't seen before. Most of us leave the stage in tears or anger.
A precious few get to hear those precious words, "You're going to *insert name of city*!" and in the writing world those words are, "I'd love to see more. Send me X amount of pages."
Then the nail biting really starts. Will my performance be as good as/better/more marketable than the others? We wait in agony while our performance is in review, something we poured our heart and soul into. Only a handful of us, however, move on to the finals. In the writing world that is, "Please send me the full MS."
More agony ensues. We doubt ourselves. We dare to hope. We wait, we check our emails, we look around at our fellow hopefuls and wonder if the judges secretly like them better.
Then more heartbreak. They can't take us all. In the mighty words of Sean Connery, "There can be only one."
What stage in American Idol are you guys? I'm in the agonizing wait mode. I've four partials and one full MS out in the void right now, being judged. I'm hoping none of them are Simons in disguise. I sent my query feeling relatively confident, but now after weeks of waiting, I feel the doubt creeping in. It's no surprise. Like most writers, I'm my own worst critic.