Did you ever jump off a high-dive board as a child? One that was so high the steps never seemed to end? One that seemed miles above the pool and almost touched the sky? Do you remember the feeling of getting higher and higher and knowing that going back wasn’t an option because of the kids waiting eagerly behind you? How every step to the end of the diving board caused an unwelcome wobble which made you even more nervous? The butterflies in your stomach were trying to fly out of your throat because they were so anxious. Then a breeze comes along and tries to take you off the board sideways. Holding steady, you finally reach the end of the board and then comes the moment of truth. Will you turn those nerves into pure excitement and plunge into the deep end? Or will you let anxiety turn into fear and shamefully tip-toe backwards and down the ladder?

My first queries are giving me flashbacks of this favorite childhood pastime. I am on the ladder and all the world can see (or at least the few concerned onlookers – who in this case include not only the agents whose favor I want to secure, but others who have helped me and allowed me to share this journey). Each request I put out into the world is like another wobbly step on the diving board. And instead of calling me forward to the edge, they are causing anxieties which pull me back to the ladder.

Second guessing every step along the way sends me another step backwards. Should I have gotten more critiques? Did I choose advice wisely? Is my query concise enough? Is my pitch perfect?

And then come the rejections. Wow! That was fast! Such a blow feels like a hurricane-force wind trying to push me off sideways. Even though I tell myself it’s a badge of honor and a necessity to reach my destination – none of that matters up here on the diving board.

There is only one direction to success on the diving board.

As a child, those nerves were the impetus for taking the first step on the ladder. Somehow those nerves drove me forward. They always fueled the excitement that was a free-fall into the deep end. If those nerves had gone away, I don’t think I would have ever wanted to jump again. But they came when summoned and made the dive all the better.

I hope I can see the distant goal of being published clearly enough to sustain these nerves long enough to turn into excitement.

Thanks to Gaia Cornwall for her wonderful book Jabari Jumps. Every time I read it, it takes me back to my childhood diving board adventures. I thoroughly recommend it!