The good news: I didn’t actually hit the Sheriff’s Department car. The very nice deputy didn’t cite me for not using my turn signal and didn’t take my license. The kids weren’t in the car. I now know what it’s like to be issued a traffic ticket, should I ever need to describe the experience.
The bad news: After twenty-six years, my perfect driving record* is shot. I owe the county $120 for improper overtaking complacent stupidity. I’ve got the shakes from the near accident.
On the other hand, it’s a terrific excuse to stay home, send out some queries, and get my Nanowrimo word count up. I need a day or so moment or two before I get behind the wheel again.
To be perfectly honest, and despite the good game I’ve been talking, I’ve been delaying querying Pigeon out of what I like to describe as last-minute tweaking, but which is slightly closer to indecisive paralysis. I described myself to a friend yesterday as Schrödinger‘s Pigeon—both Ready and Not Ready—and whined to Watson last night that I could send any number of articles and historical monologues out into the world without blinking, but I couldn’t seem to kick this one bird out of the nest.
She shrugged and said, “That’s because this isn’t non-fiction. This one is all you.”
And that’s it, isn’t it?
But I’m stronger than I was yesterday, and my latest Learning Experience™ has clarified things for me.
I now know, in my heart, that if every agent in both hemispheres decide to pass on Pigeon Drop, at least not a single one of them will fine me $120.
It will not go on my record. My license will not be revoked.
And after a shaky moment, or two, I will be driving writing again.
(Upper Photo Credit: “Frank”, via pat00139)
(Lover Photo Credit: “Pigeon Drop”, via Dunnock_D)
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*We shall not speak of parking. Ever.
Earful of Cider 
Wow, glad you are okay and that you didn’t hit that sheriff’s car. But at least you didn’t try to talk your way out of it by becoming inexplicably emotional about the geese crossing the road. (Don’t ask. Just don’t.)
I didn’t do anything but apologize—I’m pretty sure that made all the difference.
Well, better than the road rage I experienced (aimed at me – I don’t get much road rage) and/or witnessed daily (hourly) in the DC metro area.
I’m glad the Schroedinger’s Pigeon Problem is going to be solved.
i have enough road rage for both of us. Or road guilt, anyway.
The Pigeon Problem isn’t solved, but it is in remission.
Welcome to the human race. I love you.
I love you, too, Mom.
Really, the women in our family should listen to certain kinds of music when we drive . . .
Go query.
I did. Several times. Felt good. 🙂
Bad, bad girl. Was the cop cute at all? Did you get a look at his handcuffs? Hmm?
(Sorry, I went into daydream mode as soon as I heard the word ‘sheriff.’ If you tell me the sheriff was a chick I’ll be so disappointed.)
He was cute in a dark-haired, baby-face kind of way. It’s about 37F here, so that’s all I can tell you.
He called me “ma’am.”
Yeah. Everything comes to a screeching halt with the ma’am. Next time, humor your friend Averil and make something up, will you? You know I live for other people’s thrills.
Sorry. I’m not feeling very cougarish today.
Having gotten more than a few tickets in the 7 or so years I’ve been legally driving, I can still relate to sinking feeling (and accompanying shakes) that come with a ticket (and the way you got it). You will recover. And you’ll recover from the inevitable “no” that comes from querying, too. But the yes, and you will get a yes, Sarah, will be worth the anxiety and terror and “not quite there yet” feelings.
Glad you sent them. Glad it felt good. Waiting happily for your first partial/full request. Go Team Sarah!
Thanks, Lisa. I don’t think I would have finished this without your support and encouragement. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have met you!