After nearly a week of procrastination I finally submitted my work to a literary agent. That in itself means very little. Submitting to an agent doesn’t mean I’ll be published. It doesn’t even mean that they’ll pick me up as a client. When I come to think about it, everything I’ve just done doesn’t necessarily bring me any closer to my eventual goal of publication. It does however, overcome the psychological obstacle of taking the next step. Writing is easy. Editing is a pain, but manageable. Submitting my work to an impartial third party involves a tangible risk. Fear of rejection is the first risk to the process of writing. Yet, as I mentioned in a previous post, I believe the risk of regret is far greater.
In the vein of the risk/reward scenario, I’ve noticed over the past few weeks the benefits of taking risks. On two specific occasions I found myself in situations that were beyond my comfort zone. In both instances I plunged forward and discovered unmitigated successes that would’ve been unimaginable had I avoided the risk. It reinforced the need to take risks with my writing. The process is still intimidating, and realistically I’ve only taken a few small steps forward, but I’m determined to take the risk. Hopefully success will eventually follow.