Bad author

As if not hearing from any publishers, befuddling the editor I’m working with at writer’s bootcamp and the lingering words of rejection letters was not enough, today, I lost my Grace doll.

I use Grace as a prop in my presentations and as a way to bridge the gap of shy-writer to prospective teacher/client at conferences. Recently, I have started sending her around on adventures. Generally she fends for herself, but last week, I managed a major bungle. I sent her to Brooklyn and left the #4 off the street address. No, not the house address, the street.

I feel like a giant idiot. GIANT.

I can’t even express to you how upset I am at the thought of losing this doll. Not just because she’s irreplaceable (she’s a discontinued model), but because she’s an inherent part of my job these days, a partner of sorts. And I have very carelessly lost her. I’m now relying on the USPS to return her safe and sound. I’m sure it’ll happen. But in the meanwhile, I am extremely distressed and I have a fan who is still out there waiting.

Bad Tracey.

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