I submitted a story to a literary magazine this morning. Took about 5 minutes to complete the process.
Well...5 minutes plus two years of dithering.
Two years ago I set the story aside, thinking it wasn't ready. Over the last few days, I changed about 12 words . This morning I pressed "Send."
The story may not be ready yet. I may never know where a story is going or how to get it there. But writing makes me feel alive, and leaving my stories in a digital file gathering virtual dust makes no sense.
I've missed the last few Wednesday night bike rides. Too busy at work, don't you know. Last night I was pressed for time to start with, then the brakes on my bike failed, the road I needed to take to the park was closed, and the wind was blowing 30 miles an hour. I stopped, took off my helmet, and wondered why in the world I persisted despite all the obstacles. I pulled my phone from my pocket and toyed with the idea of calling my dad to come pick me up, thinking I'd just forget the whole thing.
A cloud scudding across the sky caught my eye. I decided it didn't matter how long it took me or how hard the wind was blowing. I was outside. The sun was shining. Exercise is good.
I walked the bike half a mile down the torn-up road and headed to the trail. Two hundred yards down the road, I knew why I didn't give up. The juice is in the doing, in the trying.
This morning, I tried. I sent the story. Stay tuned.