I am a toddler, impatiently pleading for waffles.

This morning, I proved my skills in the kitchen by toasting frozen waffles for breakfast. I don’t want to brag or anything, but no one toasts a frozen waffle quite like me. At least, that is what my children think.

My youngest loves waffles. In fact, after “Mama,” “Dada,” and “Bubble,” it’s her favorite word. So excited was she at the prospect of eating said breakfast, that she clung to my legs as I attempted to move between the freezer and the toaster. Of course, by hampering my ability to move, she was actually slowing down the process of getting her waffle to her plate (to her mouth).

I patiently tried to explain this to her, but patiently explaining anything to a one-year-old when they are impatiently waiting for waffles is difficult. Fortunately, my wife swooped in and scooped up my youngest daughter in order to get her sat in her seat with her bib.

That episode got me thinking.

I have been the toddler wanting waffles many times. When I am waiting to hear back from a publisher or agent about a manuscript that I’ve submitted, I have terrible trouble with patiently waiting. I mean, would it really be so bad if I called them or emailed them to remind them that I haven’t heard anything yet?

Yes, it would be bad. I’m only one ill-timed contact away from being transferred from the slush pile to the trash bin. By bothering someone who is trying to do their job, be it waffle-making or book-producing, I am only making things take longer and angering the person who is trying to help me.

So I need to listen to my own advice. I need to let go of those editorial pant legs and let the process happen at its own pace. In the meantime, I’ll spend my time creating the next thing to submit. Either that or I’ll eat more waffles.


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