Whinge, whinge, whinge. I love that verb! Learned it from my
Aussie friends some years ago and it’s so much more expressive, conveys so much
more than “complain,” “bitch” or “whine.”
I sometimes give into and indulge in a pity party. How about
you? Recently, I’ve been whingeing about the stalled effort to publish my memoir.
You know that famous line from the Kevin Costner movie, Field Of Dreams: build it and they will
come? Well, it isn’t true – not
for me.
Write it and they will publish? Ha! Maybe I haven’t put it
out there enough, but dang, the field of dreams was in the middle of nowhere –
in rural Iowa for heck’s sake – and out of the blue, the people came. Why
aren’t I having a better response to my manuscript?
I’m pouting and peevish and whining – and yes, whingeing.
But it doesn’t move me forward.
What are the next steps in getting my memoir out there? Research
more agents. Hire a formal editor to whip the manuscript into shape. Build a
platform – all those out-there things that intimidate my introverted personality:
Facebook, Twitter, Podcasts, newsletters, lectures. Exhausting and scary!
I’m not ready to move on all that, not by a long shot.
So, I’ll luxuriate in a tub of bubbly bellyaching, bemoaning
and bitching – for a while. And I’ll be gentle with myself.
Then I’ll rinse myself off and climb out. I’ll get over the
whingeing and I’ll take my next step.
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