My cousin got remarried two years ago to Dave, who loves to fly fish. He was here for only three days and spent many hours wading in the Boise River, pole in hand, fishing vest stocked with various flies, waving his line over the water … hoping, waiting, wishing, wanting. Whenever he got a little tug on his line, his face filled with anticipation. Could this be it? Is this the big one?
That’s me. The thrill I get when I send my manuscripts out to an agent or editor must be the same rush that Dave gets when he anticipates the possibility. There’s always that chance. That one in a million chance.
Sometimes I get a tug on my line (email) when an agent requests to see the full manuscript. That happened just recently. And now, like Dave, after I have thrown my fly (story) out, and there’s been a nibble, I’m filled with the anticipation that he or she will take the bait. And now, with my line drawn tightly and positioned to reel it in (an offer) … I wait.
Even if the fish goes free, and I go home at the end of the day empty-handed … (let’s hope not).
The thrill of the possibility of a catch is invigorating all in itself.