Last night I received an email from a literary agent who I have admired from afar for nearly a year. After meeting her at a writer's conference last spring she invited me to send my material on to her, which I did, but her slow response was unpromising. So, I kept my head bent toward my desk and went back to work.
This week I decided to knock on that door one last time, and in this case my persistence has paid off. "I still love your writing," she said, and then invited me to send on my revised manuscript. The compliment was professional, not personal, and I can't think of someone whose professional opinion I value more at this phase of my career. The audition went well.
In the past few years I've had many literary agents willing to read my manuscript, and each time I attached it to a word doc and hit the "send" button I felt an uncomfortable twinge, like I was sending my baby out into the world. This time it's different. This time it feels like I'm sending a grown child into the world. I have done everything I can to get this child ready, and although I know it won't be perfect and the outcome is uncertain, there is peace in knowing I tried. Really, really hard.
My point is that the auditions become easier, so long as we keep showing up. And the best part is that we become more comfortable with who we are, rather than who we are hoping to someday become.