But Wait!

Being a writer is worse than being eight years old when December first rolls around. Christmas is almost here, but not. You have to wait forever. Twenty-five more days!

Two of my three completed manuscripts are out there being looked at by editors. Right now. Likely they are being used to prop up the editor's desk, or as a fire starter, or they've been tucked into a box entitled: When You Need A Good Laugh.

The iPad was just announced. It's fast. You can pull up web pages, email, calendar, contacts, games. Bing, zip, zoom, there it is.

An editor requests your manuscript: Bing, zip, zoom, here it is!

They don't respond in the first hour. Days go by. Weeks.

Months.

I've written a whole new book since they received my manuscript.

Did they even receive it?

Hey, let's be honest, editors are busier than Heaven's door man on Judgement Day. It's not like I'm the only wanna be novelist whose manuscript they're reading.

But you have to have wonder if it's a good sign when it takes so long for an editor to get back to you. It must have touched them so deeply that they are on the floor trying to recover from the emotional impact of my book! That's totally why they haven't gotten back to my agent about it yet. They can hardly even breathe, much less call and say, "Yes! Yes! Millions! Yes!!!"

Today, I'm an eight-year-old on December first.