Ego

A Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award author told me at dinner last night that he's been teaching for over twenty-years at workshops like this and he's only come across 3-4 real writers. He said I was number five...

I've been writing full-time for eight years and been rejected hundreds of times. I just completed my third novel and I still don't have an agent, so hearing something like that, was most gratifying.

I have no idea what the implications are, but my ego started strutted it's stuff.

I'm not advanced enough in my practice to contain it, but at some point, I did get a leash on it. Still, it kept me up most of the night, and here I am at 5 am writing (I'm on central time, but this documents on eastern).

Of course when I returned to my room last night, there was a rejection email from the New York Time's Modern Love department -- I'd written a piece based on my new novel -- so no matter how big my ego balloons, there's always something around the corner to burst it.

One day I'll be able to keep that damn thing in a shoe box under the bed...until then I must remember how humbling my first two years of doing yoga were