The Morning After

Dear Dr. Cougar,

You woke me up from a nap on Saturday, and peppered me with questions. Fortunately I’m used to it. But the funniest part of our whole conversation was the moment when you asked me if I was ready to query my manuscript. I told you no.

You asked me if I were sure, and I said yes. Then you said, “Hm.” And it wasn’t just any kind of hm. It was “I’m trying not to say something else. I’m trying to not to say anything else so loudly that I need to vocalize.” You said it three times.

When my dog gets frustrated, he snuffs the same way. His little whuff of air means something like, “Don’t you see the ball? Don’t you see the ball in front of you? Don’t you see the ball I just dropped on your foot? Don’t you want to throw it to me? Don’t you? Don’t you?”

It’s not modesty speaking when I say that I’m not ready to send it out. I’ve got two strong sections, and a pile of could-be-better. My manuscript is still only 55,000 words. I’m aiming to write at least 10,000 more. And this probably means I have to write closer to 20,000, because when I edit, I hit delete like nobody’s business.

I will wait until December to find if I make the short list. I will write poems before then. Come January, I have a break from Second Job. And I will write my little fucking heart out again.

There. Happy?


Indy Clause

Any questions?


10 responses to “The Morning After

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