San Diego rarely has days that truly feel like fall.
Today it rained off and on then ended in a sunset where the clouds were they bright hazy buttermilk color and the sky looks restless. I came home in wrapped in a scarf and made myself a cup of tea.
It was wonderful.
Thrifted together the perfect suit for my boyfriend to wear to my sister’s wedding, introduced said boyfriend to onion bhaji, walked around the neighborhood, submitted another query - all while wearing my favorite dress! (Minus that last thing…which was done from the comfort of my pajamas, because I’m obviously a professional writer).
The whole day would be rather amazing if not for the battle that comes with every attempt at sending out a query as I have an incurable fear of being a literary incarnation of a terrible American Idol audtioner. I shall explain.
With the exception of the attention-seekers, a healthy portion of the not-so-talented people that subject themselves to reality television do so because they truly believe they’re talented, and most people don’t get to that point without other people telling them that they’re talented on more than one occasion. And not just any people tell them that - close friends, family - people dear to their hearts that just don’t have it in them to be brutally honest.
I’ve been told many times that I’m a talented writer and that it’s completely within my ability to get published, but until I get a professional echoing the same thoughts I’ll always be spending far too much time wondering at the fact I think I even have a chance of my work seeing the light of day.