Patience Please

People by nature are impatient beings. Think of yourself as a squalling infant. Did you care that your mother just went through one of the most moving, incredible (i.e. traumatic) experiences of her life? No, you did not. All you cared about was being feed. Now.

Learning the virtue of patience is a lingering challenge. In today's world of microwaves, Internet and iPhones, anything we want is only seconds away. I can buy a blouse, check my e-mail, talk to my mother and cook a meal at the same time and be done in five minutes. Okay, maybe ten..., remember I have kids. I may actually have to preform some sort of manual labor in that time frame, such as hefting the sippy cup out of the cabinet to fill with juice, because they want it. Now.

Okay, so I learned to share when I was a toddler, and I waited months for college acceptance letters and then I went through Patience Boot Camp becoming a new mother, and continue my tour of duty in the Patience Reserves for the subsequent children, so I'm no lightweight when it comes to the virtue of patience. So why is it that a two or three month wait for feedback from a manuscript reading seems like an eternity? I eagerly check my email to see if there is any news. I even look for the NYC area code on my caller id when I get an incoming call, (all you writers out there reading this, don't you laugh at me because you know you do it too). I'm like a kid waiting for Christmas morning in the summer. I've got a long way to go.

So Patience, don't fail me now. I need you to lord over the selfish click happy finger that wants to send manuscripts directly to the publishers, because that finger is a thrill seeker looking for the instant adrenaline rush of knowing there is a new chance in the world. It cares nothing for the long term goals that we have been steadfastly working toward. And I promise Patience when I do land a great agent, the bottle of Cristal champagne that has been in the refrigerator for three years, that's got your name written all over it.