You know the saying it’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon? Well, publishing is a triathlon. It is a glacially slow slog through turbulent seas, a desolate desert and the occasional miraculous vista.
I confess, I have never run a 5K, much less a triathlon, but I’ve watched enough Ironman competitions to know:
Learning to write is like floundering in the ocean for a few miles, while you’re trying to find your stroke.
Getting a publisher to read your manuscript and publish your work–that’s the 26-mile run.
And when you think you can coast on a bike for a few hours, you’re faced with unending edits, where your confidence falters and your faith in your abilities is destroyed, because everything you have written is scrutinized and criticized. You know without a doubt, you suck as a writer.
But you keep at it. You can’t help it. This is what you love–what you were born to do. You live for that high of finding the perfect phrase or portraying a character like no one’s ever done before or getting a chance to exorcise your demons. Then you cross that finish line–your book gets published–and euphoria. Once you hear the cheers of the crowd (reviews), you cant wait to do it again.