I take comfort in imagining that all writers, even the great old ones, occasionally feel like I feel today. I am on the verge of sending my first submission out for consideration to the wild world of publication. This should be a happy time for me, a milestone on my way down a new and exciting path, but it isn’t. Instead I stand in the shadow of Vonnegut, King, Bester, Rushdie, and Orwell and feel a hideous surge of shame at the humble work I’ve cobbled together so far. Will I drop this sucker in the mail? Absolutely. I’ve put too much juice into it to turn back now. Still, I can’t help but fret over the fact that I am swimming in unfamiliar waters surrounded by some very big fish. The world I know is one of politics, paper, and numbers. Academia and the austere reaches of the business and government affairs are the only worlds I know. Every step I take toward writing fiction is a step away from the comfort of home, and adventures do make one late for dinner. I might as well get used to the idea, when a wizard comes calling there’s just no getting the bastard to leave.
More to come.
1 comment:
Everyone who gets anywhere in their journey has one thing in common...they start. Put it in the mail, and get back to writing! So what if you don't get published yet? You will be on the path. If you are lucky, when they reject you they will give you some advice and you will move down the trail a little further.
And by the way, you do know more than academia and government...you know the woods, the ocean, the mountains...a bit about "trail magic"...all of those things are a solid foundation for success.
Good for you! Now back to work.
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