As an aspiring author and mother of two young children, the time spent pursuing my career comes mostly at night, when the kids are asleep. I don’t have a lot of time, so I need to prioritize. Should I revise tonight? Or read? Blog? Research? Submit? I have to decide quickly; I only have thirty-three minutes until midnight. That’s when the baby wakes up. She loves ushering the new day in with a solid wail.
I suppose my choice tonight is to blog. I won’t have time for anything else.
I wonder if blogging is doing me any good. The majority of hits on my blog derive from “tattoo” searches, so who really reads this thing? (Which reminds me to tell you: if you want to pump up your site statistics, definitely slip in a word or two about body ink. Personally, I’ve got an inexplicable thing for Ami James, but I digress.)
Then I tell myself, it doesn’t matter if anyone reads this blog. It’s good writing practice. Even if the writing stinks (and it usually does), at least I’m meeting my daily word count quota.
But for the next few weeks, I’ll have my writing time spoken for. I’ll be busy preparing for the Rutgers University Council on Children’s Literature One-on-One Mentoring Conference (phew, that’s a mouthful, huh?). I have writing samples to polish and questions to prepare for my mentor, whomever that may be. I have my eye on a particular editor, but I doubt I’ll be lucky enough to get paired with that person.
And I feel panic bubbling up inside of me. I don’t know enough about the authors working in my genre, I don’t know enough about the mentors, I don’t know enough about the marketplace. I don’t know enough about comma splices. I need to know more so I can mix and mingle without sounding like a total noob.
But hey–maybe I should mingle with you.
Are you going to the RUCCL One-on-One Mentoring event in October? If so, drop me a note and let’s chat. I’ve got exactly twelve minutes left before the baby alarm goes off.