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My Metaphorical Stage

It has officially been one year since I decided to stop getting in the way of my dreams. One year of finalizing and polishing my first novel. In that span of time I invited seven people to read it and opened my heart to their suggestions. I made a query letter, a synopsis, a blurb, a pitch... all things I never fathomed I'd have. And now I've begun my search for an agent, the most anxiety-inducing thing I've ever done.

The past week spent querying has been a real rollercoaster, the kind with disorienting loops that immediately make me question all of my choices. Existential, euphoric, obliterating emotions all coming together to once again re-shape and re-imagine everything I thought possible for myself.

This journey has been an awakening. I can feel the little kid in me breathing with life. She sang, danced, acted, and performed almost everything you could imagine, even if there wasn't a stage to do it on. But in looking at old pictures of her, I try to pinpoint exactly when I stopped being her, when I started keeping her quiet. I think about this competition in HS called 'Poetry Out Loud' and how I so badly wanted to participate. I rehearsed my poem for weeks. And then I just let the deadline to sign up pass. I cried as those brave kids got up and spoke their words. When did I stop being able to do that?

Now I'm on the biggest metaphorical stage I've ever been on. I am literally designing a platform for my work and saying, 'here I am, here are my words!'

I'm trying not to think about all the statistics that people love to throw out there about getting published. I'm trying not to get discouraged just as I get on my stage. I'm trying to stay the course, ride the ride, with all its loops and peaks and dips.

All this to say, one year has made all the difference. The kid in me is shining again, you can see it in my nearly-30-year-old face. How amazing is that?! I'm so excited to see what's waiting ahead.


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