Broomeshtick

So my novel is finished. It’s received the green light from my wonderful agent and it’s about to go out to various commisioning editors from a great list of publishing houses.

Sounds exciting, doesn’t it? And of course, it is exciting. I’m excited. Absolutely.

But like many writers striving to get published I can’t help thinking, what if it doesn’t happen? What if? What if?

And then before scribbler’s pity sinks in, I slap myself around the chops and pull myself together. Because that’s no way to think about your work.

Confidence is a funny thing when it comes to creativity. We need to believe in ourselves, otherwise we’d never get started. But if that belief turns to arrogance, we stop improving, because we think that we don’t need to.

It’s a fine balance and one I think - I hope - I’ve always managed to keep in check with my writing. I’ve tried to keep to a fairly simple mantra. Reach for the stars, but expect nothing.

That’s how I feel now more than ever. Everything is crossed.