Time for a Walk

I wonder if the pace of writing, editing, submitting, ext. bothers other writers of my generation. Raised on constant feedback the waiting part of it all just kills me. Waiting for beta readers to respond, critiquers to critique, editors to respond, anytime my manuscript is out of my hands it feels like some inventive form of torture.
I’m sure earlier generations weren’t fond of waiting. No one likes waiting- I’ve never seen someone more excited about the line than the rollercoaster. But I think it’s gone to a sickening extreme with those of us raised with cell phones. I’ve never been more aware of my own generational weakness than when I’m checking my phone every other minute to see if someone commented on my Wattpad story, or someone critiqued my story on critique circle, or I have an e-mail from an editor.
Ah instant gratification, you are deceitfully pleasant.
It’s been a rough week for me, I admit. Wrote a short story, all the feedback has been ‘eh’ or ‘well this is cliché.’ Got another rejection letter. But the part that makes throwing up my hands in defeat is the incessant waiting. Am I good enough? I can’t tell because no one will tell me!
Notice me! It’s like a mantra and I want to escape it so badly. Why can’t I be one of those people who doesn’t care what others think? Or better yet just be less high strung than a Chihuahua puppy. That would be good.
So what can I do about it? Aparrently not use my limited writing time to write. Instead, I’m going to go out and lay under our plum tree and enjoy the sunshine. Maybe I’ll even leave my phone inside.

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