Aren’t people supposed to develop more patience as they age?
Yeah, well… I seriously doubt patience will ever be one of my virtues. Looking back on my life, I realize that my impulsiveness has gotten me into trouble on many an occasion. The worst thing ever for someone like me was the invention of email.
Back in the day (as I like to tell my history students), if you were mad, you could write a letter. Then you could put it aside and by the time you got around to mailing it, your temper would have cooled and you’d rip it up and throw it away. But no… Email allows you to pour out anger and frustration and instantly make a fool of yourself by hitting that “send” button. And there’s no “oops, I want that back” button to save your fanny. It’s not like I have done anything to embarrass myself. At least not recently. 
Just a general observation.
In my case, my impatience leads to frustration. That frustration leads me to compulsively reading the emails from an agent I desperately want to want me and an editor who has her hands on my story. Every word drips with potential and possibilities. I read and reread, hoping to see some hidden meaning between the lines. Geesh, I need to stop doing that. It’s like putting my hopes and dreams on a rollercoaster.
So I will try to practice a little of that wonderous yet elusive patience. Publishing is not a “now” game. Never has been; never will be. Even in the age of electronic submissions and instant email. And I’m stubborn enough that I’m in this for the long haul, so I better learn to cope. I have one book coming out. Those of you who know me well will quickly realize that isn’t enough to please me. I want more. Much, much more. I want a writing career.
I just need to stay out of my own way.