Writing a book worthy of publication. The dream that drew me on, but always seemed a long way off. And then BAM, the opportunity of a lifetime arrives in an email:
Hello and thank you for your application. It is clear you are a serious writer and one capable of writing a manuscript that editors and agents will want to see. Following a review, we have decided to accept you into the September 2013 New York Pitch Conference…If a publishing house wishes to publish your novel, they will ask that you be represented by an agent; therefore, we will assist you in finding suitable representation.
Sincerely, Michael Neff,
Director-New York Pitch Conference
Before I even catch my breath, my dream is upon me. And even though I cannot afford a trip to New York, I’m ecstatic. I will make this happen. I only have until August 18th, but I can do it. So I throw myself into it.
I plan, brainstorm, and ask advice. I try to market myself, a wife and mother of five with no marketing skill or experience. It’s a scary thought because I know it’s all about the marketing. But I shove the fear from my mind and I write. I write Indiegogo campaigns, and exercises for the NYC Pitch conference, and upbeat emails pleading for support, and blog posts, and Facebook posts, and thank you’s. Oh, and I make a video. That’s a tale in itself.
Then I wait for my dream to come true. Okay, not wait. I still work hard, trying to grab it with both hands. In fact, that’s pretty much all I do—the weeds taking over the yard and endless dinners of $5 pizzas attest to that. And yet as hard as I’ve been working, it comes down to waiting. To watching my dream tick closer to me or farther from me. I won’t know which until the August 18th deadline of my Indiegogo crowdfunding project.
And suddenly, the culmination of my lifetime dream is three weeks away. I’ll continue to give all that’s in me for it. I’ve bared my soul for the world to see. They’ll see if I succeed. They’ll see if I fail. I feel naked. And as I try to remain enthusiastic and positive, in the back of my mind perches the deadline to my dream, one moment looming threateningly and another moment pulsing with possibilities.