I just got off the phone with RWA National. I've been waiting to hear if I got one of the scholarships and I hadn't heard anything. I'd asked Alicia Rasley if she knew, and she did know someone that had received notification on it already. Great.
When we sent in my essay thingy, Shari tried to fax it and could never get it to go through, then B faxed it from work and said it did go through. I asked if he got a confirmation number on it and he looked at me, in response, like I'd grown a second head out of my neck. I took that to mean that not only did he NOT get a confirmation number, but that he had no idea what a confirmation number WAS. So whether or not it was ever received at all has danced in the back of my brain for months now.
I have most of the airfare and hotel expense covered in all the afghans I'm crocheting, but I was heavily relying on one of the scholarships (KOD had one too, but I found out long ago that I didn't get that one.) Out of two possibilities, I didn't get any. Now I'm wondering if Fate, the bytch that she is, is trying to tell me something. Of course, anything that allows an ounce of self-doubt in will wiggle right in to make me 2nd guess any talent I may possibly have. This is a huge wiggler.
I'm still crocheting on the ones I have orders for, but this means I need like...what? About 10 more orders! Which is fine, but dang, I can't imagine where else to ask about people that may want to give homemade afghans for Christmas presents. I think I've tapped all my resources on that one.
I was considered the corner here outside my house (my house is on a corner lot) and becoming like the Middle-Class Neighborhood Hooker to raise money. I had someone think that was the title of one of my books. I guess it could be. I'm betting more than not, people would pay to keep me OFF the corner so they don't have to behold these thighs in fishnets. Still, the possibility is tempting, no matter what the "customer" motivation may be.
I've already gotten gowns, and pins, and workshops, looking at classes and agents. To think I won't get there at all makes me want to puke. Hell the idea of crocheting another freakin' afghan makes me want to puke, but I'd happily do it if I knew I'd get to Nationals. And damn it, I need to get away, writing conference or not. Four kids + B can suck any intelligence right out of ya. Trust me on that one.
So there ya go. First I dealt with Guilt this morning, and now I'm tossed Dismay. Suddenly, the Guilt looks really good in comparison.