The one that made me jump up and down
When I got the email, Ashlynn was fast asleep on my chest and it took everything within me not to squeal out loud and wake her up. So I slowly eased out from underneath her and got a few feet away before I started squealing and jumping up and down. I tried calling Jon, there’s was no answer, so I called Christine instead.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as I tried explaining to her through gasps of air.
“Christian… publisher… interested...” was all I managed and all she needed to hear. We squealed and I promised to call her back once I’d caught my breath.
I ran upstairs to talk to Dad, I showed him the email, and he begged me not to get too excited. Um, doesn’t he know its too late for that?!?! And so I decided that I needed to call the one person who’d understand, who would get it, and who would be just as excited as I was. Marianne.
As soon as she answered her phone in Utah and understood why I was calling, I could hear her joining me in the squeals, the laughter, the jumping up and down. I laughed as I imagined her 8-month pregnant belly shaking from her excitement, I could hear the concern in her 2-year-old’s voice as he asked, “Mama? What’s wrong?” And we got teary. Because second to my mom, she has believed in me the most, she has encouraged and supported me, and on occasion, has even kicked my rear end when needed. Its because of her I even started writing again.
I died as I waited for others to call me back… Jon, my sisters, and mom. And I explained again and again. I opened my email to find that a Christian publishing company is hoping I’ll consider them when I finish my book. (As if I have so many other prospects knocking at my door. Ha!) And even if nothing ever comes of it, that email means more to me than I care to admit.
I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon, trying to process what this means, if it means anything at all. I’ve been euphoric one minute and negative the next. Its been a wild ride of emotions. I got mad at myself for saying anything on Twitter at all, afraid of what others will think, and most importantly, afraid of failing.
My writing is one of the most vulnerable areas in my life, publishing those chapters was/is a terrifying step for me. I am so insecure when it comes to my writing, so afraid of failing that I’d rather not even try. In writing this book, I’m trying to prove something to myself. I never imagined it going further than this blog.
And it still might not. I don’t know what, if anything, will happen from that email or the emails since, but I know this… My identity is not defined by either success or failure. A book on the shelves of a bookstore, or the book on this blog, neither will define who I am. And as long as I can keep that in mind (I’m repeating it to myself as I write this), I’m ok with sharing this with you. I’m an open book, my life is an open book, and I’m happy to let you in on this turn of events. Even if I fall flat on my face.
And now I’m just as terrified to hit publish on this post as I was the time I hit publish on Chapter 1.