I had a blog post all prepared and ready to go when a little hook was thrown in my curve. And just to let a little mystery out of the bag, I wanted to delve a minute into romance writing. But oh well, looks like I'll have to take that one back to the drawing board, promising whenever it's ready for 'print', I'll be sure to include a snippet of what the pause was all about.
Tonight I had to ad hoc it, calling on my number one fan. Between daring not to bore anyone with a to-do list I have no earthly business trying to attempt, and thinking up an upbeat post for tonight, I did, I did. I turned to prayer. And what do you know? That orb swung around and picked me right up. (If you haven't heard about the orb, here's the post on it).
Yep, there it was. An email in my inbox speaking on, 'If You Weren't Afraid.' So, thanks to the Onyx Woman who sent it. I credit that email for inspiring this remembrance, musing on an incident that so reminds me of how I tackled the initial nebula of so-to-speak drifting onto the publishing field. And please do not set your expectations high on this one because not only am I writing ad hoc, this musing has a lot of mileage on it.
I still hear those screams. "Throw the ball to second base! No. No! Throw the ball to first!" And then there was me, looking like the eyes of a deer dancing before headlights, juggling a ball I had no clue where to throw. I, in fact, didn't have the slightest inkling about any aspect of the game. As kids ran around the bases, my eyes shuffled around the field in complete amazement. There was just so much yelling and screaming and confusion that I didn't know what was going on.
After the smoke cleared, and dust settled, and I of course was angrily ordered off the field, I was even more confused. No one explained to me the rules of how to play softball. I simply was told to go out in the field and when the ball came to me, to throw it to one of the catchers wearing the brown oven mitt. That was it. Well, there was a little more because I did try to ask for better direction, which was after someone said, "hey, our class has been selected to play in a softball tournament," to which I asked, "what's that?" So, I was waved away and simply told to just go out into the field and not to worry because it would be highly unlikely that the ball would come to me anyway.
I skipped out into the field thinking, great, that sounded easy enough. Guess I should have known it was going to be my day. And perhaps someone on the other team realized it too, because lo and behold that ball came right to me, and all be damned if I didn't catch it.
While I respect the craft of writing, and do bow down to my share of fears, *to say I don't have fears would just be inane,* even if the one thing I never feared was writing, or seeing my work in print. I expected this would eventually happen. I as well never feared publishing. However, that was only because branding my own publishing business wasn't originally within sight.