Fear and Anticipation

I signed up for my first Writers Conference and I’m scared to death.

Certainly, the experience will be fantastic. I’ll spend three days immersed in the craft that I’ve chosen to pursue, surrounded by authors, agents, and editors. There will be well-planned courses, a boot camp to review my first chapter, and a chance to talk face to face with the people who work in publishing. I am grateful just to have the chance to attend such an event. Still, I’m afraid.

Until recently, I had been hiding in the shadows of the writing world, silently tapping my keyboard.

When I wasn’t adding to my word count, I was researching everything I could about the craft, silently absorbing all the information available to find. I Googled, I read, I looked up every blog I could find. If someone mentioned writing online in the past several years, chances are, I examined what they posted. Because I was new to the experience, I wanted to know everything. Hidden, I completed two novels. I’ve mentioned before—I didn’t tell anyone, except my wife, kids, and a few friends.

So, here I am, a writer—still unknown, and still dancing in and out of the shadows that have been kind to me for several years. On May 5th, I’ll walk into a brilliant hotel lobby in Salt Lake City and introduce myself to real people who have been doing this for a long time. That’s the moment I fear—the gasping breath before I discover if the air is safe.

If you are there, I look forward to meeting you.