Paranoia sets in at this stage of my edits. Whenever I near the end of the edits on a big manuscript and start working on a query, that niggling sense of fear and doubt finds a way through my armor and begins to paralyze me. What if it’s just another failure?
Writers face rejection all the time. It’s how this whole thing works, like with most artists. We’re rejected by our peers, we’re rejected by reviewers, we’re rejected by agents, publishers, or even readers. We’re fighting from the onset, and it’s a soul-sucking battle. Hence the need for thick skin and a support system. I’d be nowhere without it.
However, it never hits me more keenly than that step up to the precipice, as I stare into the void of what-ifs, when I’m getting close to submission time. I get seized by fear, and all of those worries start overtaking me. It’s a deadening brew.
At that point, I’m simply grateful for my family and friends, because whenever I take that leap, get a bruise, maybe even a concussion, they’re there to dust me off and help me back on two feet again.
Granted, I’m sure it’s infuriating that I keep leaping every time. Talk about a kid who doesn’t learn when they put their hand in the fire.
Only time will tell if it’s stupidity or bravery.