I am not new to querying. If anything, this is actually my third round. When I started querying last week, I remembered that adrenaline rush that came each time I hit the send button. In so many ways, I loved reading manuscript wishlists.

But I had forgotten the brainfogging anxiety. How staring at the screen and seeing the pillars and columns of books was exhilarating until I couldn’t see mine. Couldn’t see a cover that looked like what might represent or mimic Polishing the Bones. My superpower is insecurity. I have confidence until I follow through on my plans or my actions or my dreams. And then, it just seeps out of my toes. Leaks into the earth.

I’m re-reading my comps and see such beautiful writing that feels so much better than mine. But I know that I wrote something that has potential. I know it. I see it. And I believe in it until I open a book and read gorgeous writing. Or I see these polished agents in New York City and I feel so very rural and so very far away.

I keep hearing from other writers that “Writing is hard.” It sort of is. But if I close my eyes and pull myself deep within myself, writing is easy.

What’s hard is selling my writing. I can write you poetry. A short story. A novel. Something like a play. An essay. A blog. I can write you a newspaper article. A resume A cover letter. A letter of recommendation. But my query letters feel so stilted. So underwhelming because they represent twenty years of dreams and hopes and wishes. Because they represent the next stage of my life that I know I can accomplish and fulfill but I need someone to say “maybe” and then perhaps “yes.”

I need one yes. Just one. And I know that it’s out there somewhere. And the quest toward finding and attaining that one yes is one that I will continue. But right now, my toes feel rather stubbed and the soles of my feet ache.

Yes. I am feeling rather hobbitish right now. But the anxiety today was literally painful. And, thankfully, my oldest child gave me some advice that eased the tension out of my chest and let me finally take a long, deep breath.

Tomorrow is a snow day. Tomorrow I’m going to write a story. Review some student essays. Grade.

And send out at least two more queries.