I'm doing it again. I must be a glutton for punishment.
The North Ohio SCBWI conference is coming up in September. As I posted previously, I signed up for a critique of 'Blue.'
I've spent the last two days poring over the twelve pages that I'll be sending. Criteria dictates sending only twelve pages, so I've decided not to put in a summary. It's not required. It might be a mistake not to send one, but there you are.
I have heard, and believe it, that a good editor or publisher can tell within the first two or three paragraphs if a story is well written and will bring in readers. Technically, that means all a conference could require is the first page of my story. Yikes! That's daunting.
My twelve pages are done. I just sent them out to my editor for a final review. Tomorrow, I'll ship the two copies via FedEx to the conference people.
Now - my stomach is roiling and I feel sick. Unbelievable. I feel like I'm offering myself up as sacrifice to the gods. Why? I have no clue.
So here I sit, shaking in my boots, and wondering why on earth I would put myself through something like this. And yet, I write for the fun of the story and for the fun of sharing it with others. This is the only way I can share it - by having it published, either traditionally or via the Internet. Whichever way, it's got to be done if I am to plunge forward and continue to grow.
Life is exhausting.