Okay, so maybe snow isn't fun. At least not anymore. More like 'fun' in the sarcastic sense of the word. It was 70 here just two days ago. Today they closed the school because of the blizzardy conditions. Not usually a big thing in this house, but since my daughter was supposed to take her standardized tests today at the public school, she's got the day off. Her first snow day since we started homeschooling. So I guess that would be fun.
In other news, after getting a nudge or two from some kindly butt-kicking friends, I got off my ass and did something productive yesterday. I went to AgentQuery and printed off the first round of agents to query. Then I sat down and started writing the dreaded synopsis for Blink - something which a couple of key agents ask for up-front. Right now, it totally sucks, but at least it's started. I can fix sucks. I can't fix nonexistent.
I'm still scared, but it's like me and my fear of grasshoppers. Last summer I was driving around out in the countryside, taking pictures and soaking up a beautiful day. Since it was so beautiful, I had the car windows open as I drove. Of course, I wasn't thinking about the fact that the countryside around here is rife with big, huge nasty grasshoppers (or locusts, if you want to be totally grossed out). These things can get several inches long and man, are they ever ugly. So, I'm out driving and enjoying the scenery when a grasshopper flies right in through my open window. :shudder: I'm totally freaked out just having the thing in my car, but even worse, it's sitting on my dashboard - STARING AT ME. (I'm getting the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it.) The car is moving, so I can't freak out like I regularly would. Instead, I swallow the fear and pull the car safely to the side of the road. Then I get out of the car and think about what I'm going to do. I can't just NOT get back in. I'm miles from town - miles from anything really - and how silly would it be for my husband to get a call that I'm stranded because of a grasshopper.
What's a girl to do?
Well, I sucked it up. I took off my shoe and beat the hell out of that evil bug. It tried jumping in my face, but by the time I was through, it was a smear on my carpeting. (Eww, gross.) Sure, there was some shrieking and waving of arms like a little sissy, but I got the job done, and went back to my lovely country drive (sans open windows).
This is similar to that. I'm scared. It's irrational, I know - like my fear of the harmless grasshoppers of the world - but the fear is there. I can't let it stop me. I can't let the fear drive me off the road, and I can't let it leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere. I have to take off my shoe and beat the hell out of it, even if I almost wet myself in the process.
Trolling the blogosphere this morning, I read a post by Jessica Faust that almost seems like she could've been talking to me. It's called Just Do It and to quote her oh-so eloquent words: "Do you have a dream? Do you really want to get published? Then quit with the excuses, get off your butt, and make the dream happen."
So, that's what I'm going to do. Fear or not. Squirms be damned. I am going to do this. Even if it kills me.
Oh, and I forgot the fun stuff part. This morning, via The Fictionistas, I made myself into a superhero. I am: