Great stuff, as usual, from writing guru Chuck Wendig. Read, understand, absorb.
The mantra of the writer—both published and unpublished and soon-to-be-published-again-someday-maybe—should really be: HURRY UP AND WAIT.
The career comes in fits and starts, feast and famine. A flurry of activity and a dead run into Nowheresville—a cursor spinning, crickets chirping, tumbleweeds tumbling, zombies gumming each other with rotten teeth just outside a Bed, Bath and Beyond.
It’s like drinking a glass of ice water and suddenly an ice cube dam releases and your face is suddenly the target of an ice cube avalanche and then your shirt is wet and your pants are wet and people think you aggressively urinated on yourself. Then you’re out of water and it’s like, “Hey, when do I get more water?” and the only response is a bewildering, sympathetic shrug. The glass sits empty for months and your mouth goes dry until suddenly—a firehose knocks you back.