I’m going to be published in the New York Times. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself as I finish off a submission piece for their Solver Stories feature. I like to dream big. And why not? I have a story I believe fits their mission.
I know the odds are small. I know there are plenty of other writers, with writing credentials superior to mine, also creating pieces. The sting and self-doubt surrounding a possible rejection are a real part of the writing life. It’s not something I enjoy experiencing.
With each passed over narrative, with each thanks-but-no-thanks, with each decline in Submittable, my soul darkens a bit. I chastise myself for not being good enough. The insecure little voice inside grows larger, its whispers of ridicule growing bolder.
Not writing my story, however, is guaranteed failure, a self-rejection. I refuse to let fear and doubt steal my opportunities. If my goal is to be published in the New York Times, then I best go about submitting to the New York Times. Sitting here on my couch, lap desk across my lap, unsupportive cat by my side, just wishing for good things to happen isn’t going to get me very far.
I’ll do my best to weave heart and enlightenment into my tale. I’ll proofread my narrative. I’ll do my due diligence and have a few trusted friends read my piece and offer suggestions. Then I’ll hit submit with hopes and dreams fluttering in my gut.
Because I’m going to be published in the New York Times, some day.