Jump

Perhaps sending in that query for a book or story is like jumping off a bridge (bungee style of course). The thoughts that go through your head are what define the experience. One person might look down and make the mistake of picturing their death. Hard to jump after thinking something like that. Another person thinks that it will be a great rush, and wants to linger in the whole adrenaline-fused moment. It's not if they live or die; it's the whole act of it that they get off on. Lastly, a person might think of the consequences, but decide it's worth the risk. They know the cord will most likely hold out, and that, even though sacred shitless, the experience is worth the risk. They neither crave nor shun the moment, they just want to know that they are brave enough to do it, that the experience will be good for them as a human and will enhance the rest of their life.

Okay, maybe sending in our work isn't quite a thrilling, soul-defining as jumping off a bridge, but it does feel like it sometimes. We spend so much time on our writing, don't we? And we want to be good at what we do—we want to know it hasn't all been in vain.

But the only way to find out is to jump. Continuously jump, and continuously have faith that everything will turn out right. We must find the joy, the pleasure, the passion, the excitement, the reason right now to make that jump and not dwell in the fear. It doesn't matter about what happens after we jump, just go for it and be brave.