Something has changed inside me lately, and I don’t mean the 2-inch long human being, although he/she does have quite a bit to do with it.
The change is this: If I never get published, that’s okay.
Up until about two months ago, I never would have said that. I never could have said that, because I didn’t mean it. “No, as a matter of fact, it will not be okay if I don’t get published!” was my response to that very idea. But then again, I’ve been quite a go-getter for the better part of my adult life so far. And by “go-getter” I really mean “control freak when it comes to my own life and what I think I want and/or need.”
Is it still seriously awesome that I have a literary agent? Absolutely.
Do I still hope that The Clearing will one day be printed and bound and appear on a bookshelf? Of course.
Is it okay if it never gets there? …………….Yeah. It really is. And I think it’s taken this life-changing event to teach me that. No, I don’t want to quit writing, and I won’t. I’ll still do everything I can to become a published author.
But if that doesn’t happen for me as quickly as I’d like, or if it doesn’t happen at all, that’s okay. I’ve got a lot more going for me than that. So I think what I’ll do is just write what I want to write, and if it goes somewhere, fabulous. If it doesn’t, whatever.
*breathes huge sigh of relief*