As I look at the wall of my office where I've hung a copy of all of my published pieces to date (10 from Beckenhorst, 1 from Lorenz, and 1 in a recent issue of Overtones) it amazes me that most of what went in to making that body of work was not composing, working at the computer, but rather waiting. Waiting to hear back about acceptance or rejection. Waiting to get a contract. Waiting to get proofs. Waiting to get complimentary copies. Waiting to hear a demonstration recording online. It's hard to keep that in perspective when I have fifteen pieces out there and haven't heard about any of them in the past month.
Despite that, I've tried to stay busy the past month. I've just finished participating in National Novel Writing Month (www.nanowrimo.org), and have also written a couple of organ postludes for use during the coming Advent season. It's that time of year where performances take precedence over composing, so I don't expect to get much written in the coming weeks, so it's just maddening when I have ideas floating about in my head and no time in which to write them down.
Of course, all things must come to an end -- time passes and the wheel turns. The waiting will come to an end eventually, and the performances will cease on or around December 25. All that remains is to enjoy what comes during this season and not fret too much about the waiting. This, too, shall pass.
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