Waiting, Waiting, Waiting

I've done my part. The book is written, revised, sent off to my agent, and now begins the hard part --waiting for and editor to nibble.

This is worse than the times my father and mother used to take the family fishing at a friend's pond. My Dad would help us bait the hook, and throw the line and bobber out into the water. Then I had to sit on the bank, with bugs flying in the air and buzzing around my head. Mom gave me the look every time I wriggled around on the bank, or slap at the darn bugs. No talking allowed. I waited for the excitement of the first tug on my line, or the way the concentric waves around the bobber said there was a fish on the end of the line.

That's where I'm at for the time being. Patience is not my forte. I like things to happen now, to be in control of everything. This is one time where I have to put my faith in my agent and my work. Questions always come to me each time I hear of a rejection. Maybe my stories are lacking, is my voice strong enough, or do I have the right bait on my hook? Those late at night doubts make me want to jerk the controls away, but I can't. Not this time. Patience and faith are my watch words.
One of these days I'll get the call from my agent with good news that we caught a big one. That's the day I break out the champagne and do a happy dance. I think I'll go to my local pole dance studio and buy a pair of five inch heels just for the occasion. First, I'll have to learn to walk in them, but it'll give me something to do while I wait