What if?

"What if" can be a real bitch.  Because we rarely "what if" positive things.  

"What if":

No one likes my story

I can't find a publisher

I don't like my own story now

I wasted all my time

I edited too much

I didn't edit enough

Back it up, buttercup.  So what?  What if these things happened?  What's the absolute worst outcome to all of the above?  You're not traditionally published?  You set aside the story until you have a fresh perspective?  What's the REAL "what if" here?

Failure.

"What if" is the mental gateway to failure.  And none of us like to fail.  You can "what if" the everloving shit out of the story, yourself, and the world in general.  It's a slippery slope.  

Now.  Let's "what if" the other side of life.

"What if":

You love your story

An agent asks to see the full manuscript

You polish the story until it shines in the darkest room

What if they still reject the story?  WHAT IF???

Oh, darling.  You dust your ass off, and you continue your journey.  There is no one way to do something.  There are branches upon branches of decisions to be made concerning one small thing.  Why settle for making decisions that don't fork?  You are limiting yourself.  Sometimes the best journeys are off the beaten path.  Sometimes you need to beat back the brush, muddy those pristine shoes, and force your way with a machete and an indomitable will.  If you don't have a machete, break the branches.  If you can't break the branches, bend them.  If you can't bend them, then work around them.  

There is ALWAYS a way.

My mother is an outdoor woman.  She picked me up one year for my birthday, and we went down to Sulphur, here in Oklahoma.  Trails, wooded areas, and plenty of nature.  My mother is an outdoor woman but not an ADVENTURE woman.  But we park and wander around.  Mom sees a trail and asks if I want to try it.  I'm game, because of course I am.  We start up.

To say this is a "trail" is to put it nicely.  It's a few bare spots in the dirt running vertical.  Up we go.  We push branches aside.  Lose sight of it a few times.  Think we found it again.  Duck.  Push.  Walk.  Laugh.  More of the previous.  Then we stop.

We are literally on the side of a mountain.  To our left is the most spectacular view.  Neither of us had any idea where we were.  Didn't matter.  We admired the scenery then made our way back down.  It's one of the fondest memories of my mom.  Because she's a "what if" person, and we didn't "what if" it to death.  We just went and did the hell out of it.

This is important, loves.  You are made to do what you do.  No one else.  Don't let "what if" sabotage you because she's a heinous bitch who doesn't give a damn about you.  She's all about winning.  Don't let her.  

Be strong.  Shine brightly.  Climb that fucking mountain.  

I believe in you.

Always writing*