Today I submitted the first draft of my book proposal as part of my MFA program. I can't help but think: is this how parents feel when they deliver their kid to a dorm-room for their freshman year? Anxious, excited, and terrified that you haven't done enough to make sure that this strange thing you created can survive all alone out there in the world? Will it play well with others? Will it even be understood? Will anyone else ever be able to love it?
That's how I feel today. Luckily this is just a first draft, and like the first pancake, it might end up in the garbage. Isn't that the point of a first pancake (aka first draft)? You test the griddle to see how well the whole thing holds together. And if it falls apart, that's okay, because I still have nearly two months to cook more pancakes. And by cook I mean write. And by pancakes I mean book proposals. So if this book proposal is a crappy first pancake that winds up in the garbage, at least I've got the rest of the semester to work on revisions or restart the whole thing from scratch.
Too bad parents can't just chuck their kid in the garbage and start over if their first pancake-child winds up flunking out of undergrad before Thanksgiving. ... Or maybe that's why my parents had a second child... They probably figured that everyone should have a backup in case you need a do-over.
Have I mixed enough metaphors for you yet?
Man, I'm going to be a basket-case if I never have a real child.
So, for now, I'm just going to keep trying to birth this book.
Although if the writing in my proposal is anywhere near as bad as the writing in this blog post, I'm going to be in serious trouble.