A key skill in publishing your debut novel is the ability to wait well. There’s a lot of it. Waiting seems to be most of what is asked of you.

But what I’ve discovered is that waiting is not the same as doing nothing. In fact, waiting well is about not wasting time – perhaps the most valuable time you’ll have.

Since mid-October I have been waiting for the publisher of my debut novel (tentatively titled) The Confessions of Adam (Bold Vision Books, 2019), to complete manuscript edits and initial cover art. During this time I have not been lying on the couch eating cookies and binge-watching The West Wing. Instead, my focus has been on waiting work. I have (in order of importance):

1. Read The Confessions of Adam, hardcopy, with pencil in hand, 3 times – once aloud.
2. Completed and submitted for workshop the 6^th draft of my next novel.
3. Alerted my writerly and readerly network to the anticipated release.
4. Scheduled and sat for my author photo.
5. Altered my 2019 planned schedule in anticipation of release activities.
6. Began building my book release email list and started investigating mass email platforms.
7. Started to arrange book release readings at two venues.
8. Investigated how to add a book release splash page to my website.
9. Given notice to several book clubs of the upcoming, albeit yet undated, release.

For the casual observer, waiting work is hard to differentiate from routine work. The difference is that waiting work anticipates what might be needed while routine work follows a defined plan. Both are essential. Waiting work is no less critical to your progress. In fact, it can make the difference between routine work that is on-time and that which is rushed to completion or delivered late.

So, wait well and get to work.

Yesterday I took my family on a four-hour fishing charter off the coast of Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina. It was a near-shore trip. We were at most a mile and a half off the coast trolling for Spanish Mackerel in 20-50 feet of water. As it turns out, there was time to think.

Fishing: The trip out from the marina and the first hour were uneventful.

Writing: Getting started each day is mundane, routine. It is not exciting. It takes time to get to the place where you can focused on the work.

Fishing: The second hour was uneventful too, but for the churn of the sea and sky and a sheet of rain.

Writing: We sputter, lift, and roll in search of some line that might lead to a paragraph, and perhaps promise the flash and glimmer of story.

Fishing: The third hour saw one of my daughters catch a Spanish that was too small to keep.

Writing: The ratio of words that we write vs. the words that we keep is not in our favor. Those sentences that at first suggest such promise are often the first to come under the Delete key.

Fishing: The fourth hour my son caught a ten-inch Lizardfish.

Writing: Ugly writing will appear under the tips of our pens. The key is to recognize how ugly it is, avoid compromise, and move on.

Fishing: On the way back to the marina we saw some dolphins playing in the causeway and for a few minutes our fishing charter became a nature tour.

Writing: Lean into the unexpected. When something pops up that is not on your target, pause.

Fishing: I didn’t lay my hand on a rod all afternoon.

Writing: Ending the day without a viable sentence is still a day spent searching for one.

Fishing: I tipped the captain and stepped back onto the dock.

Writing: The time spent with your butt in the chair is the cost you pay. The results will sometimes come and often not. The protocol is the only constant.