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I Just Submitted My Manuscript To A Large Publisher
My mother had a saying, “Shit or get off the pot.” That was her way of saying, “Stop talking about things and do them.” Today, I shit.
What I actually did was submit my manuscript to a traditional publisher, a large one that is specifically accepting submissions from BIPOC and LGTBQIA2S+ writers as well as those from other underrepresented communities. Not the entire manuscript, the first 3 chapters, as per their guidelines.
I kinda want to puke.
I could have avoided all this. I could have just gone the self-publishing route, but I suck at promoting myself. Oh, and my husband absolutely forbade it. He read it and insisted it deserved much better than that.
Did I mention that I kinda want to puke?
I haven’t felt this way since I wrote the bar exam. You know that feeling when you’ve done the best you could, you know that, but the thing you just did is so big that it literally has the potential to change your life? And once I hit “submit,” it left my control. That’s where I am now.
I’m excited and proud. But I’m also nervous and second-guessing myself. I’m seriously picking apart my submission, word by word, even though I’ve edited it like 20 times. I’m preparing for the worst, pretty sure they’re going to tell me I suck while strangely allowing myself to dare to dream.
I could use some words of encouragement right now, even though I know if they pass, there are others.
I never thought I’d have the courage to do this. I did this. I’m scared shitless.
