Imagine an artist working on his masterpiece. Year after year he labors on the piece of art, mulling over it, taking his time to make it something perfect. At the same time, he anticipates for the day he would reveal it to the world and receive tons of accolades for it. And when the time finally comes for him to reveal it, all of a sudden, he feels vulnerable, especially the moment before he lifts the veil from his masterpiece in front of thousands of people. He feels nervous, now more conscious than ever about his skills, his creativity. What would people think? Will they hate it? Love it? Or not care? That moment, that miniscule second before the veil drops to expose his masterpiece is the hardest to swallow.
And that is what I am going through. This will be the moment where my career as a writer would either take flight or fall straight to the slosh pile of somebody else's garbage can. So I'm crossing my fingers and focusing on just the best. Peace out!