A Writer in the Village

I woke to Clarence yelling at Cleopatra because she wanted to go for a walk but the sun was just coming up.  I flopped my head back on the pillow, rubbed my eyes and rolled out of bed.  My running gear was already laid out and ready to go, sometimes that helps with motivation but it's really hit and miss.  It felt like I had sand in my eyes and I am dreading the humidity.  I opened the door to my room and found Clarence standing at the back door watching for Cleo and looking a touch irritated so I told him to go back to bed and I would take her out right away.  He rescued Cleo about a year ago when she was going to be put down just for being a pit bull; she is completely in love with him.   I opened the door and she sat perfectly so I could put her collar on, I sighed when I felt my skin become sticky from the humidity...even at this awful hour there is no reprieve.

I set out to do eight miles today but apparently Clarence doesn't walk Cleo as much as I had thought because we ran for less than two of those miles and I had to let her rest for a bit before we slowly walked back, I even had to help her up the stairs.  Perhaps she needs a little training too.  I found some clothes and headed for the shower, it was barely 730am and I had my first meeting in the East Village at 930am.  I wanted some time to get into the city, grab a coffee and go over my notes so I at least appeared to know what the hell I was talking about or the direction I wanted it to go.  I stood there letting the cold water wash over me, nervous, excited and scared to move.  This is my biggest interview I have ever had because in order for her to take me on for the book journey she will have to believe in my vision just as strongly as I do.  I know I can take the class and she will help me with my writing...but I want an agent and I need her help and guidance to do that.  I need a clear vision in order to be able to sell it to her and make her see that it is not only great but very unique.  I turned the water off and grabbed a towel off of the rack...I guess I never thought that I would actually be in the position to take the next step and try and sell my work.  It's funny but at the beginning I told myself that I was going to keep moving my project forward until it was no longer able to move...and for some reason I am able to keep moving forward and I have to believe it's because I am a writer.