Kristin Rae over at Kristin Creative had a great idea for a blogfest: write a letter to your future self. So naturally, being the blogfest-aholic that I am, I had to sign up! If I could talk to myself in the year 2020, here's how it would go:
Dear Future Gina:
First, let me get this out of the way: I'm sorry for not exercising.
I knew I should have listened when people told me my warp-speed metabolism would eventually slow down, but when you've spent your life as a 98-pound weakling, it's hard to imagine the day when you outgrow your jeans every six months or so.
That day came. And instead of pounding away on the treadmill, I pounded away on the keyboard. I'm so sorry, because I can only imagine what our thighs look like now. *Shudder*.
I'm assuming you forgive me for the secretary spread, though, because it produced our baby: the New York Times best seller, Life Before Death. And the subsequent top-grossing movie... you guessed it... Life Before Death, starring Dianna Agron and Steven McQueen. So suck it up and put on those Spanx, because all those fat cells that accumulated while we sat in front of the computer were well worth it in the end. You'll agree when you step out in style at the movie premier, your loving husband (yes, still) and perfect dream agent at your side.
So now, future Gina, I'd like YOU to ME a favor. Can I get a little encouragement here in the present? Because I'm about two more seconds of staring at this computer screen away from a siezure, and my first three chapters still aren't perfect. I'm waking up at 4 a.m. to jot down ideas for queries, only to wake up again at 7 a.m. and realize they suck.
Please tell me this isn't all just a pipe dream. I need to know we're going to get more out of this than just computer-screen-induced headaches and big thighs. See you on the other side of the writing wall (right? RIGHT?),