I can see myself writing at my desk early in the morning before the sun even rises. I'm sipping flavored tea with two spoonfuls of honey. The writing flows from my brain to the fingers tapping away. I become so consumed with my writing that I jump when my wife calls because my main character just witnessed a gruesome murder. She gives me a hug and we laugh, but I don't think she will ever understand where I am off to in my own little world. She leaves me with a piece of chocolate and promises a glass of wine for later. She's my best friend ever.
The manuscript is sent off to my editor. He laughs at all my jokes. We talk about our favorite authors and why he doesn't like the Cubs; I don't hold that against him. He tells me there are mistakes in my manuscript. I complain and tell him it's really a good thing, but he disagrees with one of my scenes. We argue about the pacing or maybe he doesn't like the way I present the danger. By the end of the conversation we are best friends and agree in ways to unify the world. I send him his favorite bar of Swiss chocolate.
I call my agent after avoiding her for a week. She knows where I live, so hiding is futile. She is my best friend in the world. She calls me at 3 in the morning to remind me of the deadline. She tells me great things about my stories and the wonderful reviews my last book is receiving. Then she gets into it about my latest novel; this being the reason I have avoided her in the first place. She complains about my trip to Indonesia and tells me that I need to be chained to my desk until my next work of fiction is complete. I send her flowers, but she isn't as easy as my editor, so I take her out to dinner. She orders a big chocolate soufflé, which she doesn't eat because she is worried about her figure. We hug one another and share her soufflé. I finish my novel and all are happy.
I was just at the Chicago Writers Conference over the weekend. It gave me some good feelings of where I am and where I would like to be as a writer. It was refreshing to be able to speak with a few of the agents that I have always admired on the internet, but never really met in person until now.
Another nice thing about writers conferences is that I get to converse with fellow writers. We talk about each other's books, adventures in submission, and inevitably the horrible feeling of rejection. Most of us are happy because we create other places. We all have things in common like the love of chocolate! Writers generally are happy people. Some of us are frustrated because we look at the end game, but we just need to believe its coming. Someday that dream will come and I'll get that call at 3 in the morning from my agent or argue with my editor. Until that time, I just dream of that special day when millions of people can read my books.