I had a discussion with one of my clients about my book and where I was at in the process of it and she made a comment about how waiting wasn't really that hard. The conversation went something like this.
Client, "Well at least your book is out there, the waiting isn't really all that bad."
Shannon, "You should try it then, see how you like it."
Client, "Well it's not like your pregnant and you have nine months to wait before you have a baby."
Shannon, "At least you have an end date with a pregnancy, you know when that kid is coming out within a few days. I have no end in sight, nothing to strive for except patience. Can you imagine being pregnant and not knowing how big you were going to get before the kid popped out? You could end up with a freaking toddler!"
And that was my conclusion, that this process is supposed to be teaching me something about patience and life as well as writing. Only thing is, I find myself with less patience. I think it is being sucked out of me by the waiting.