Focus, girl. focus

Today's the day.

Sort of. Or perhaps I should say, it's a day of sorts.

The day the courier company delivers my manuscript to the desk of the reception person at the agent's office. (Or to the front stoop where some wandering person with an eye for literature could scoop it up and the world would lose the opportunity to make me famous.) So, when I say that today is the day, I mean that the the week-long journey to have a ship-by-ground courier package sent from Nova Scotia to New York is upon us. (The parcel should have arrived yesterday, but some guy named Lincoln had a birthday on Monday and messed up delivery dates. Thanks a bunch Mr. L.)

The manuscript could be read by the agent anytime over the next couple of weeks -- she has it exclusively for three from date of posting. THAT day will be THE day. But since I won't know when THAT day will occur, today is the SORT-OF day, based upon the delivery milestone being accomplished.

Today, I sit before the computer repeating the mantra provided to me by my wise, Reiki-practicing friend: "Abundance flows freely into my life from multiple venues." She has instructed me to say this any time I find myself deriding my lack of talent or expecting rejection. "Don't send out an order for bad things or they will happen," Reiki master (mistress?) is likely to say.

I'd like to take a moment to point out that the agent in question actually requested my manuscript based on a query letter sent to her the week previous. (I love her already.) I like to think of this as a step in the right direction as my first manuscript generated zero enthusiasm. I would also like to believe that if book two doesn't result in publication (Abundance flows freely into my life from multiple venues)book three will.

Of course, each time I say the mantra, my Virgo brain wonders about the grammatical correctness of using the term venue. Can abundance flow from a venue? Perhaps, but it sounds awkward. I would be happier to use the word sources. But making such a change causes me some concern. I wouldn't want to mess with a mantra. Who knows what kind of focus-testing has gone on resulting in the selection of just the right words. Maybe the cosmos likes venue. Who am I to argue with the cosmos?

While pondering universal connectedness, severe monkey brain has me in its grip as I jump from writing to researching, to reviewing a proposal from a business partner, to writing a grocery list to sending out e-mails to friends. I think I need to get away from this busy-ness. Perhaps I'll go and have a nice, warm bath, light a few candles, play some soothing music and repeat: Abundance flows freely into my life from multiple venues about 5,000 times. Think it will help?

Colleen