No Excuses
By Dixie Darr
"A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are built for."
- Grace Murray Hopper
I met with my Joyfully Jobless group yesterday. We get together every other Friday morning to share support, ideas and camaraderie for our entrepreneurial endeavors. I had big news. As I have mentioned, much to my surprise and delight, I have acquired an agent. On Wednesday evening he sent me a message asking me to write an article pitch for a Major National Magazine, whose name you would definitely recognize. He has a contact there who is looking for new writers and article ideas. Having an article published in that magazine would help him sell my book to a publisher. Of course, it would also go a long way toward giving me legitimacy as both a writer and an expert in my field.
I was paralyzed by fear for the first day after I got the message, unable to begin writing. What was I afraid of, I wondered. My JJ friends wondered, too. “You should be ecstatic,” they said. “You deserve to be published there.” Over the years I have read dozens of books for writers and they all stress how extremely difficult it is to get published in major national magazines. I decided long ago that I didn’t need the stress and probably couldn’t handle the rejection, so I never even attempted to send queries. I was convinced that they wouldn’t want me, so I didn’t want them. It’s the same way I treat men: Reject them first.
Back to the question. Now that I had a real opportunity, what was I afraid of? I’m afraid that getting that article published would leave me with no excuses. I couldn’t continue writing primarily for myself. I would have to quit whining and actually produce. Very scary.
I left our meeting, encouraged and grateful. The weather in Denver has been spectacular this fall. When I got home, I noticed that the purple ash tree in my front yard has turned. The outer leaves are a deep maroon, but the inner leaves remain yellow, making the tree look as if it is glowing from within. At 55, I’m a little like that tree. You might say that I’m in the autumn of my years, to steal a line from ol’ blue eyes. My exterior has changed over the years, but inside I feel the same. Usually, that’s a good thing, but sometimes those old tapes can get in my way. It’s time to move on, to find my way around my self-imposed obstacles. I turned away from my tree, went to the computer, and started writing the pitch for my agent.
Wish me luck.
7:31:51 AM 
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