Did I ever write about how nervous it makes me to post off my work to publishers? I’m sure I did. It used me to shake with nerves, standing at the post box, almost in a cold sweat, part of me begging the rest of me not to do it. I awaited the answers with dread, sure that I would be told never to pick up a pen again.
Well, I didn’t feel like that this time. I’m not sure why.
Perhaps because I have a plan – if this fails, there’s another path, and another.
Or maybe I’ve matured, and that nervous young girl has gone (though as she appears to be present and still nervous in other parts of my life, I can’t see that being the answer).
Maybe it’s because this time, I feel I actually have something worth publishing. It’s not that I thought my other work wasn’t worth it – one day, I’ll publish those too. But since I first started writing this particular book, I’ve had a small quiet voice in the back of my head saying ‘this is it, this is the one.’
I’m still expecting rejections, because that’s what happens. But this time, I don’t think they’ll stop me, and I don’t think they’ll cut as deep as before.
And who knows, perhaps my nerves are right – this time I’ll succeed.