I have never been patient.
I want it yesterday. I rush things and make silly mistakes in them.
I thought thirteen drafts would be enough. But it’s not.
I’ve been working on my second novel for two years now, and it’s not ready. I had the amazing opportunity to pitch it to a literary agent last weekend, and she told me exactly what was missing, what I still need to do.
Of course I would have loved to have been told that it was ready, and that I should start submitting! I’m OK though. It’s worth it. This novel is literally the best idea I’ve ever had for a book, if I’m going to get representation, I feel it’s my best chance.
And it is teaching me about writing. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.
You have to become patient.