January 17, 2010
I’m scared to death. My book is finished. I’ve been sending queries to prospective agents. Last week, one of them emailed me back and requested my manuscript. Oh my God…
A million thoughts are running through my mind. What if she doesn’t like it? What if my writing is no good?
Worse, what if she does like it? What if she finds a publisher for me and my book is released to the world? Then, what? I might as well stand stark naked in the middle of I-25 at rush hour, with a blinking neon sign and arrows pointing to me! Am I really willing to do that?
I sometimes compare my book to The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. If you haven’t read this, I highly recommend that you do. DANCE OF THE ELECTRIC HUMMINGBIRD is a modern day and true story version of this fictionalized tale about a shepherd boy seeking his Personal Legend—the purpose of his life. And just like in The Alchemist, now that I’m standing on the edge and I need to let go and jump into the abyss—solo and without a parachute, I’m paralyzed with fear.
“Just DO it,” Nike says. Yeah, easier said than done, pal.
Apparently this is a common reaction. We want our dream to come true. We want it with all our might, have perhaps even spent our entire lives working toward it. And then, just when we are about to see it come to fruition, most of us back off. Why? Because of all of those fears I mentioned. Then the final hurdle consists of facing the notion that we may actually be more afraid of achieving our dream than we are of not achieving it!
This isn’t as absurd as it sounds. Now that I’ve arrived at this point, I find myself wondering, What if I’m successful? Then I’ll have an entirely new set of conditions to deal with and right now, I have no clue what they could be. It’s much safer to remain with my known world; I pretty much know how to deal with that.
So what am I doing about the letter from the agent? I’m stalling. I’m finding all kinds of excuses to keep from emailing my reply. I’ve written it, but I can’t seem to make myself push “send.” “I have other queries to get to other agents,” I tell myself, so I work on them instead. And I’m writing this post! I’ve also come across a very good lead, and I’m doing the same thing there—stalling instead of writing to the author involved.
Oh, and www.addictinggames.com keeps seducing me with stupid tactics like: “You need a break. Your mind is tired. Just play a few rounds and then you’ll be able to think clearly again and write a better letter.” Wink, wink.
Like the boy in The Alchemist, I must make that leap into the unknown, let go of the trapeze bar, fling myself to the mercy of the void and trust that there’s another bar out there coming toward me. I haven’t worked this hard to stay where I am. But still…
And then this morning, I receive an email that says: “If we don’t change, we don’t grow. If we don’t grow, we are not really living. Growth demands a temporary surrender of security.” —Gail Sheehy
I suppose I should take this as a sign that the Universe is trying to tell me something!
Give me a minute. A hot cup of tea is calling. Oh wait; I’ve already used that excuse. I’ll get to the email tomorrow when my mind is fresher. Really, I will!
(P.S.–I sent it.)
