Waiting at the Quay

It’s a wet, cold May morning. Water spattered bags and boxes have made it inside Panera, and all of us are waiting for Dan and Lisa, so we can trek to Madison. I suspect the bags and boxes will be quiet on the trip. They’re a studious lot.

I will be coming back with less than I’m going with. Drollerie sent many bookmarks and fliers for new publications. John Rosenman sent me some fliers for his latest works. I’ve got some equipment and materials for Las Habladoras’ reading on Friday. My academic paper on Monday is compact by comparison.

One year ago, Wiscon made me settle down and try again with my writing. Strangers heard me read, and all weekend long I was cajoled and supported into the idea that I ought to be doing this, instead of wishing I was doing it. My fruits for the first year are tiny, but sweet. I’m building that sturdy platform from which I will find an agent. As with all the things I do, there will be a slow and steady building. Fifteen years from now, I’ll nod and be satisfied.

Meanwhile, where am I as a writer? Almost done sending out agent queries for The Substance of Shadows. One partial out there. Sister Night, Sister Moon out from Drollerie this year. Hulk Hercules out from Cats Curious next year, the fall semester giving me lots of time to write it and a curriculum guide for kids. I have work I think through December. In December, we’ll send Hulk to Henson and Startz.

And we’ll see what comes of this year at Wiscon. I look forward to seeing Sonya, my writing group friends, and spending time with two dear friends who always make the Wiscon trek with me. I look forward to seeing the Girl Wonder crowd. I want to see the parties, meet new people. It all sounds lovely.

Work has been horrible this week. I make the mistake of giving myself to things because of a lack of strong family roots, I think. I need to sink more into myself than my work, and writing is the best way I know to follow the dreams I have for myself. I’m not giving up my work, but even though I can pretend that they do deserve my all, they don’t. I deserve my all. Wiscon is a chance to reinforce this ideal.

Happy first birthday, Writer Tamago. Keep trying to peck your way out and revolutionize the world.

Catherine

Originally published at Writer Tamago. You can comment here or there.