Taking Risk

Most young children are risk takers. There is little, if any fear of being made fun of. Why would there be, children see themselves as stars.  Some might call this arrogance; I believe it is innocence. It doesn't last long. Somewhere around eight or nine, cliques and groups begin to form. It only takes one person to zero in and share a weak spot.  Suddenly all the confidence once held secure disappears. The innocence is gone. It is easier and safer to blend in, to be one of the crowd. 

I know the exact moment this happened to me. It is history, and though I have long let the incident go, I keep a tight fist around the fear of failing. A little less than ten years ago I signed on here, wrote a little blurb and after a few days, probably weeks I hit publish.   I shared this step toward conquering my fears with a sweet few. If I did share, I would sort of whisper it, in hopes no one would know what I was talking about. I didn't believe anyone would want to read anything I wrote; if they did, they for sure wouldn't take me serious.

This trip has never been about gaining a following, although I do appreciate each and everyone who visits, reads and stays. It was and is about stepping away from my safe place, facing a fear, taking a chance and finding my voice. And friends, you have allowed and encouraged me to try on many voices.

I guess, I might as well stop here and tell you, I have, once again, taken a deep breath and jumped.   Several months ago I was looking through our neighborhood magazine when I came upon an ad asking for writers, no experience necessary.  I folded the page down and put it away. Weeks later I found it, turned to the dog-eared page and stared at it. At dinner I told my husband about the ad and ask his thoughts.  I went through all my ifs and buts, the biggest being my lack of qualifications. He didn't hesitate to encourage me to submit something. Once again, I set it aside to ponder.

A few weeks ago, going through the mail I happened upon the January edition of the magazine. Flipping through, reading about new neighbors, family pets, well-kept yards and child athletes, I happened, once again, upon the ad asking for writers. This time I folded back the page and placed it by my computer.

A couple of weeks ago, after publishing my last post here, I wrote a letter to the contact person stating I would like to write about books, if this fit into their vision. I stated all the disclaimers I post here... I  am not a writer,  but I have a passion for reading and love sharing this passion. I wrote about my blog writing and my book talk on Instagram.  The letter was pitiful...no exaggeration.

I sent it!  If I could have retrieved it I would have, but it was gone.  I slowed the rising panic by assuring myself the letter would be read and quickly discarded.   The next Monday morning I checked my email and there waiting to be opened was a response saying my letter had been forwarded to the editor.

My blood pressure might have gone up a little.  Soon I had a very nice response from the editor saying they would like for me to write book reviews and perhaps help with other stories; would I like to write a book review for the March issue.  I said yes... what was I thinking?

My first review is finished.  It is due at the end of this week, but I will send it out tonight. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a bit nervous. I am not a brave person.  I am much more sensitive than I want to admit.  
This is not a whisper.

(I know this has been long. Sorry, I am a southerner; I can't say anything in 30 words or less.)

I am sharing this adventure with you, because I hope, if there is something you are wanting to do... please,  just take a deep breath, close your eyes and fly.  Yes, we may fall, but we will know we tried.  That alone is success, don't you think?

Hugs!