The Art of Waiting

Being a writer involves a lot of waiting, doesn’t it? I’ve been living on tenterhooks for the past couple of months, and finding it (along with everything else going on) really affecting me. More so than normal, which has annoyed the hell out of me because I guess I’ve previously felt a little smug about how good I am at compartmentalising and getting on with stuff rather than obsessing over inboxes. Oh how the mighty are fallen, or the not-so-mighty-at-all, in my case. So instead of staring at ...