When I was a wee Lark, my older brother, Broseph, and I were
in a zoo. Specifically, in the reptile/insect/other ickoids section. A zoo lady
was in the last room, doing some exhibition thing with a hairy, eight-legged
lump of ‘So Over This.’ She called it a tarantula. Being a reader, I knew all
about tarantulas. They are covered in butt hairs and have swords in their
mouths.
Zoo Lady offered the tarantula out for kids to hold.
Broseph, bold and manly as anyone in elementary school can be, immediately took
a turn. Zoo Lady then offered the tarantula to me. Wary of mouth swords, and
not certain that a hand washing could fix butt-hair-handling, I quickly shook
my head. She laughed, and turned away. “Oh, girls never want to hold him.”
I immediately held out my hand. I wanted that verbing spider
in my hand. No way in hell was I going to do or not do something just because I
was a GIRL.
It was too late. Zoo Lady had wandered off into that
mystical place behind the walls of most insectoid habitats, taking the
tarantula with her.
It’s a silly little story with an uninspiring end. I could
have shrugged it off, and run out after Broseph as he eagerly told our folks
about the tarantula. Then we moved on and did other zoo things. I don’t
remember what—probably feeding giraffes crackers. Maybe we even ate hotdogs.
Who knows?
But I’ve always regretted not holding that spider. I knew,
even at the time, that nothing bad would happen if I held him. Even if I
squealed and accidentally dropped him and ran around flapping my hands like a
drunk flamingo, no one would have looked down on me particularly hard. I was a girl,
after all.
But I hadn’t even tried. I was too scared.
I’ve made it my mission, since that very long time ago, to
do things. All the things. I loathe unanswered ‘what if’s. I would much rather
live with a string of failures than with an untarnished slate.
I’m applying this to the whole ‘author’ thing, as well. The
Writer’s Voice was an amazing experience—I made it onto a team! I worked hard
on my pitch! My wonderful coach, Monica, helped me craft the best damn query
letter I. Have. Ever. Crafted!
I got absolutely zero votes!
It would be a disservice to creative endeavors everywhere
for me to lie right now and say that I took this well.
It was humiliating. It was heart-breaking. Five years ago, I
decided to get serious about being an author. Five years of effort, a LOT of
people telling me I just won’t make it—for no apparent reason other than the
fact that people you know in real life just don’t do unordinary things like
authoring successfully—and I choked on my biggest opportunity yet. I was at
Dayjob for most of the voting time, and had to deal with people whining about
the size of their pastries and the brownness of their bread while my life dream
was just sort of casually not happening in the background.
I made it through most of the day without crying. Yes, I’m
female, but the last time I cried I was having a panic attack. A year ago. The
time before that? I woke up from a concussion-experience that could have
technically killed me. I’m not trying to brag, I’m just saying that it takes a
lot to rattle my cage. And on the day that I realized I wasn’t going to garner
any interest in my biggest author-opportunity to date, I stuffy-cried at work,
then I went home and sobbed for hours, and felt like the biggest, dumbest baby
on the planet because of it.
Again, I’m only writing about this because posterity may
want to know.
Also, after everything, after I leap-frogged back into the
saddle and made myself a giant list of to-do’s and potentials, I totally got a
ninja vote.
A real, proper agent (who is totally cool and who I would
LOVE to link to, but won’t, because we’re still just in email chats and
revisions) who was not officially involved in the contest, is considering my
book. Ninja Agent has read and enjoyed the book. We’ve talked on the phone. I’ve
just sent Ninja Agent my first five chapters, with suggested revisions, and soon,
hopefully, we’ll see if they actually want to represent me.
Ninja Agent may change their mind. Or, they may decide to
sign me, and then my book may fail to sell. It’s possible that I will breach
the agent-wall and then fail to ever sell ANY book. It’s possible I’ll spend
the rest of my life working lame Dayjobs and writing during my lunch breaks—writing
stories only my friends will read and enjoy.
But I’m trying. I wrote the book. I wrote before that. I’ll
write more after. I work hard, and I’m willing to work harder.
If not for The Writers Voice contest, I wouldn’t have a
working query. I wouldn’t have this shot with Ninja Agent. I wouldn’t know how
tough I can be—because, again, in the interest of full disclosure, being passed
by after all that buildup was an emotional gnad-punt. But I’m back in the
saddle. I’m ready to keep trying.
I implore you, whoever you are, not to shy away from the
spiders in life. Not necessarily real ones, because, again, butt hairs and
sword-teeth, but whatever it is that creeps and crawls on your personal dreams.
Let fear drive you. Never let it control the breaks.
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ReplyDeleteYou had me at butt hairs and mouth swords.
ReplyDeleteLOVED this post!!! But, er, I'm not sure if I would literally grab a spider, lol. Let me know when you post the OTHER post! You know what I'm talking about!! Haha!
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry about all the weeping. I guess we've all been there. But I'm stoked about your happy ending!! <3
Thanks so much!
DeleteAnd, meh, that's all a part of the game, right? If we can't handle having the things we're passionate about being put through evaluation, we shouldn't pursue it professionally. And I can handle it :) Can't turn off the feels, though.
And again, without you, none of this would be happening! Your email that day was mostly what got me to sit up and get back to work right away, rather than moping for the customary week or so. You are wonderful <3 May I link to you blog when I put up the OTHER post?
Which I may do tomorrow :) I wanted to wait until I was officially on their website, but I may actually explode if I wait too long.