The best way to keep yourself from going start raving and shrieking bananas: lots to do and not enough time.
What if life doesn’t play along? What if the Jack Nicholson in maniac mode lands on your head – aka anxiety meltdown (no need to look it up, my term for it). Meltdown because too much time, not enough to do, and no news that’s fit to share with anyone; no one being around with whom to share it anyway.
Only way for me: shut down the computer. Find something much bigger than yourself and your meltdown. Find some way to get Nicholson out of the apartment. Get some sleep; where the friendly spirit proved to be a horse by the name of Zingaro, in this case.
Remind yourself life plays. Your job to figure out how best to deal with whatever part is yours in the most recent improv on its way to the next thing. Sometimes, it’s the sound and fury signifying nothing; sometimes your brain aches from listening to silence. Sometimes, things work.
For now, story-wise: they saw the writer through one bad moment; they see the person through several others. Whether that means they should get trotted out on the first page of a story from a nobody who won’t get another chance at readers? A valid question. If I had a printer, I’d print them out, and set them up near my computer. I don’t, so I’ll pretend.
