First, let me suggest this piece on Lisa B's blog. It sums up perfectly how I felt about my day yesterday. When I looked up at the wall clock and realized I still had three hours left on my shift, I was stunned. It felt like I'd already been there until next week.
Anyway. In other news.
I've been thinking about that pile of completed manuscripts I haven't sold, and while I haven't totally given up hope, I've begun acknowledging to myself I may never sell them. This acknowledgement would have DEVASTATED me a few years ago. I would have felt like that person who mourns a misbegotten youth, which he/she can't even remember very clearly, because he/she was pretty much wasted for most of it.
For some reason I'm feeling okay about things right now. I'm glad I was able to spend time with my characters, even if no one else ever ends up meeting them. I'm glad I was able to write about Aria quoting lines from "The Lady of Shalott" by a moon-filled window. Or Opa telling Emi about his garden that survived the fire-bombing of Dresden. Or Zuzu deciding to use "-ly" words when she writes just to piss off her English teacher. Or Ozma pretending to faint. Or Shelley wondering who left those roses on a grave. Or Jo listening to the beating of swan wings, filling the sky like church bells ringing.
The manuscripts themselves might be far from perfect. But each of them has a perfect moment.
At least for me.