June 30, 2003
It will probably be in the nick of time, since more redundancies have been announced at the company I work for. Telecom is a tough place to be working these days. If you are still even lucky enough to have a job (many aren't), then those that are left have what we call here as "Survivor Syndrome"-I made the cuts, but watched 50% of my co-workers go, and the guilt at still being here while they are in the torment of job-hunting is awful.
I bought a book of literary agents, and I found one in the UK that has a street address of a city I lived in for a long while, and in which I went to university. Now, I tend to not be overwhelmingly superstitious, but I feel like it's a sign. A positive one. One I will take a chance at. I have to prepare a section of my latest work (which is not yet ready for anyone's viewing, let alone the hope of being published), so I will be spending time this summer cleaning up a section to send for review. This is extremely hard on me-I am not good at rejection and am easily wounded, so I can see some wound-licking in my future. All this, since the agent has a coincidental street address.
People often ask me where I'm from. Apparently, my American accent is not so thick-I get asked a lot if I am Irish or British. Then, when people find out I am from the U.S., I get asked a lot of questions. The first one obviously is: Where in the U.S. are you from? That's a good question, and one not so easily answered. I grew up all over the U.S., moving a lot, since my dad was in the Air Force. So it's not such a simple question. Where am I from? All over. Where do I feel like I am from? No where. Where do I call home? Whatever square of space I happen to be standing on when someone asks me the question.
It's hard not coming from anywhere. I have no sense of local patriotism. Petty regionalism jokes pass me by. I have no friends from my childhood (they all moved around a lot, too). My oldest friends date back to university, less than 8 years ago. I don't get to nurse a beer at a party with someone that I grew up with running in and out of the sprinklers. I don't have a sense of "Town X is my hometown."
So it's ironic that I am going for a literary agent based on my non-existent hometown. Then again, I guess we all need to drop anchor sometime, and let the ship rest at port.
Posted by: Everydaystranger at
09:21 AM
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