It's time to put on my big kid pants.

I've been stalling.

This is my notice that I have to stop writing a bunch of crappy stories and participating in challenges and linking up all over the place.

I need to work on my book.

I need to stop saying, "Well, I'm just keeping my writing muscles toned. I'll get to my ACTUAL writing when the time is right."

The time is never right.

I want to stop playing around.

It's silly to be trying to keep up my querying and feeling legitimate, when I'm using my energy to write a story about the time you lost a finger.

This is a writing rut. This is what I've chosen to do so that I can stall with an alibi. I can't honestly say, I've been working on writing projects! I have! My latest "project?" Well, it involved a sinking boat, a piece of string, a record player and a banana.

I'm just treading water because I'm daunted by the process of finding an agent. I'm daunted by the idea that there are millions of people in the world and they all have different tastes in things, and agents are people, too. They are faces in the crowds of people I interact with every day. They have different tastes and different ideas, and on top of that, they have to consider the market and what they think they can sell. And on top of THAT, they are wading through hundreds of query letters every day. Every single day. On top of that, do you have any idea how busy I am with a one year old and a four year old? Do you have any idea how much time I don't have to be following this dream?

It seems almost impossible to find one who gets me, but it's not. Everybody feels that way. Everybody who has ever started from nothing and made it has felt that way. It's just part of what is true.

It's not impossible because I know I'm not just another writer with a dream. I'm a force of nature. I've written a behemoth. I've written something with my guts all intertwined in the pages. I've written something that somebody will fall in love with. And I know I can do it again.

I swear I'm not delusional.

I know you can't afford to waste your time believing me until I'm published.

That's okay.

I'm taking a new stance.

I am going to be published.

I've taken some time out to lick my wounds. I've taken some time to play around and wallow in my failure.

The thing is, I haven't failed. I've barely even skimmed the surface of the giant shit-pool of failure and rejection that awaits me if I want to be FOR REAL about this. Barely anybody spends a few month querying a few dozen agents and is discovered. This is about being scared, getting rejected, getting rejected, crying a little bit, trying again, getting rejected, crying a little bit and getting rejected some more.

This is about gutting myself and being willing to bleed.

No more little stories about nothing. No more wasting my momentum on something I know doesn't matter.

I've been writing in my pajamas. It's time to put on my big kid pants.

I have big plans.

Watch out, now. I'm about to get PROFESSIONAL about this.