“Do not try to bend the spoon. That’s impossible. Instead, only try to realize the truth.”
“There is no spoon.”
“There is no spoon?”
“Then you’ll see it is not the spoon that bends; it is only yourself.”
Most of the time, it sure feels like there is a spoon to bend–a massive titanium spoon with a stubborn streak. And that sucker wants to remain as it is. Unbent. Then there are the times when said spoon seems to actually morph, bow, twist, and submit. But, according to Spoon Boy, it’s not the spoon which is bending; it is me.
Two more Pitch contests have come and gone. The stubborn spoons of 3-2-1 and Super Intern are still marvelously straight. I won’t toss them into the garbage disposal, though. Instead, I’ll tuck them away in my silverware drawer of attempts made.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, here are the current stats for contest entries, requests, and queries:
Contests – Entered: 6 Outstanding: 1 Wins: 3 Losses: 2 [I can tie it up!]
Requests – Submitted: 5 Outstanding: 5
Queries – Submitted: 3 Outstanding: 3
So, my calculations bring the total number of Outstanding opportunities to 9. [Please, double-check my math for me.] I do indeed believe these are “Outstanding Opportunities” in the best sense of the phrase.
The truth of the matter is that–in order to be successful in my writing endeavors–it is I who must bend.
Freeborn’s pitch has been tweaked and honed at every stage of feedback. The manuscript has gone through multiple revisions, 2 critique partners, and 6+ beta readers. I am anticipating feedback from the requesting agents with the possibilities of either “I want you!” or “Please revise & resubmit using my amazingly specific comments as a guide.” I refuse to accept the idea of form rejections.
After all, there is no damn spoon.
I am always a little wary of using ‘profanity’ in a post. Anywhere online, really. There are folks from early epochs of my life who [I’m sure] are appalled by my use of ANY profanity. We change over time. This is fact. Funny how folks from your past–people you never interact with anymore, people who have no authority over you–can still cast their heavy shadow over your life. I’m trying to shake it off. But sometimes I still feel like a kid caught smoking behind the barn.