I Hate Waiting

November 1, 2011 § 3 Comments

Like, seriously.

I consider myself a patient man. For example, I voluntarily go to flights three hours before departure to check in. I can handle the wait, which, as it is flying, is usually accompanied by another, longer wait. Although the second one has more screaming babies and less leg-room. Seriously. Being on a plane is the one time I regret my height.

I also express significant patience doing research or searching through libraries. That is fun in its own, weird way. I can look at books, find out new things, and generally, enjoy myself.

The particular element that makes those two things bearable, however, is that they are both rooted in the present. When I’m waiting for a flight, I am there, physically waiting. The waiting and I are sharing a moment, together, along with my book, making it a weird threesome. I can bear it because I can see the end and it’s, even if it’s several hours, right in front of me.

I can not bear indeterminate waiting for some undetermined future.

Example? I goofed on the decision date for Machine of Death 2 submissions. They will probably let us know by Friday.

Friday.

Friday, needless to say, is not now. Nor is it later today. Nor is it even tomorrow! Friday is off in some Never-Never land where John is not. Peter Pan is messing around with Tinkerbell and Friday, while I’m gnawing my fricking fingernails off, wondering whether I’m in or not.

Of course, once I do get the email, I’m going to stare at it for about 10 minutes before actually opening it. Aren’t neuroses and self-esteem issues fun?

In other news, I decided that buying Leviathan and Catching Fire when I still haven’t finished The Name of the Wind was a good idea. Protip: it wasn’t.

Finally, I was asked why I named the protagonist of Home of Iron and Glass (because iron rusts and glass breaks!) John. I have a reason, but I want to do a post-mortem of the story and the writing process. I’ll answer that in a few weeks. Yes, it’s looking to be a longer story than I thought. I don’t know how I feel about that.

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