For the first time in months, I logged into the Members Only page of Romance Writers of America. I am currently checking out the agent listings. There are so many to query and I know I need to get on the ball if I want to sell my novel.
Reading their guidelines and such really gets me excited. I work in a publishing company. I read YA/Teen Chicklit by the dozens. I’m immersed in this culture, but something keeps holding me back.
I have a lot of fear. I want this so badly, but I’m scared of it too. I’m scared that I won’t be able to write another decent novel. I’m scared that everyone will think this one sucks. I’m scared that my book will be on the 1.99 table at Barnes & Noble. Yikes.
I’m scared my novel will sell millions of copies and I’ll end up on that New York Times Bestselling list. My life will CHANGE. Am I ready?
(Am I just dreaming?)
In a few weeks, I will be Boy Free again. Chris is going to Arizona and such, and Aidan is going with my mom. I’ll have plenty of time to get to work on selling this thing. And make some progress in my currents WIPs (YES, it’s plural now)!
The ideas are flooding my brain, but I get stuffed and blocked and find it hard to sit down and let them flow. I’m always concerned about the audience. The reason ONLY YOURS was done so quickly is that I was so depressed that I didn’t care what anyone else thought. That was my escape, my emotions, my heart. I finished ONLY YOURS in approxiamately seven months. I want that again–that feeling of writing because I CANNOT stop. I need to push that block away.
I need to ignore all of these feelings of being overwhelmed, and let go. Enjoy it. Revel in it. Love it.
Oh Lord. I am babbling. I’m outta here.
(Originally published at Anywhere Is…)