Post-Glitch and the "Gone Missing"

Ever have one of those days when from start to finish you seem to be going against the grain? No matter what you do to change the rhythm, you're get nowhere fast at virtually every project on your schedule. I had one of those yesterday. Should have gotten the hint early on when I spent 20 minutes writing my posting about the "Lost Art of Listening" and it "went missing." I wrote it a second time and once again, it "went missing."

I hate that term, by the way. Who invented it? I first heard it a few years ago when Ashleigh Banfield started using it ubiquitously during her ubiquitous appearances on MSNBC. She was the tall skinny, short-haired blonde with the stylish horn-rimmed glasses.

At the time, she seemed to be the latest MSNBC darling. She bounced around the country and seemed to turn up everywhere covering the news. I believe Elizabeth Smart had "gone missing" at the time. By the time she had "gone missing" for three days, I was wishing Ashleigh would "go missing" herself. Apparently, she has cuz I haven't seen her Energizer Bunny persona on the screen for some time, but I still groan whenever I learn on the news that one more person has "gone missing." Not all people GO missing. Often someone TAKES them, and then they're missing.

I'll also groan if my posting "goes missing" again today. So, I'm following a wiser course than I did yesterday morning by punching the "save as a draft" button. I don't know what was happening yesterday, but it seemed the only time the blogger god would recognize my writing was when I wrote that I couldn't post my writing. I promised to come back later, but the day's events continued to go on a downward spiral.

I did succeed at pulling off a telephone interview with a lady in British Columbia, but the letters I sent to experts on the subject of mares adopting foals all came back with messages to the effect that these people had----you guessed it---gone missing. No such names appeared in the institutions' rosters anymore. Apparently they were there once, but maybe they joined Ashleigh wherever she went.

Then, I got myself braced to talk to the lady in charge of my manuscript at the University of Nevada. Some readers may be aware I've been waiting ever so patiently since early February to learn if they're interested in publishing my third book. I was told I'd hear something in about eight weeks after the manuscript arrived. I waited 12 and asked about progress. "I detect a sense of impatience," the lady said to me. So, I promised patience and waited until September to ask again.

After I sent her three letters over a two-week period, she finally wrote back and said she'd received a reader's report. The report had recommended acceptance with some revision. I also learned that I would receive a copy of the reader's comments, which I did on Friday. As always, when I first read the feedback, my body went through a series of jolts. I always like to hide when I read criticism for the first time because I'm sure my physical reactions to each verbal jab are very apparent.

Anyway, the report balanced the bad with the good. After reading it a second time, the suggestions seemed doable and reasonable, so I sought some further advice from the editor. In our first phone conversation ever yesterday, she told me she really didn't know what to say to me. She did say she'd call me again today but promised no guidance. So, I'm currently doing a little head scratching and wondering if this is the best route for the manuscript which has been complete for nearly a year. I put all my eggs in this one basket and may regret the decision.

Anyway, the frustration level yesterday magnified as it does often with writers seeking to progress within the literary realm, or in my case, even to walk in the door. After our telephone discussion, I could not bring myself back to the blog to try yet a third time at posting my Monday topic. In fact, for the rest of the day, I descended into one of those many valleys writers often visit when things are not going so well---vowing, of course, to never write another word again.

A night's sleep usually takes care of such things. If she calls as promised, I'll visit with the editor this morning and decide whether to move forward on the slow course I've been taking for so many months with this manuscript or to veer off another direction.

So, there's the story about yesterday's lost "lost art of listening story" and my teaching story. And, if this post dares to "go missing" today, you'll never know about this chapter or the rest of the story. Cuz I'll probably just say "forget it" and go looking for Ashleigh, wherever she is!