Brave New World

By: Maegan Beaumont

Two years ago this summer, I finished the first

 draft of my manuscript. I remember walking 

around in a light-headed daze, a stupid smile 

on my face--I'd just written an entire novel. Surely 

that made me the smartest person alive. Or at least

 the most talented, right? After a a day or so, reality 

seeped back in. Yes, I was a genius.Yes, I was talented,

 but... what was I going to do with it? Set it on fire?

 Run it through the shredder and make confetti?

 Wait... I know! I'll have it published!

I was so dumb back then.

When I think of this journey I'm on, I can't help 

but remember the time I was 6 or 7 and I was 

spending the weekend at my dad's house, which was

 in the South Mountain foot hills. My step-brothers 

and I got this crazy idea we were going to walk to the

 base of the big mountain behind our house. Don't ask

 me why, but it was something we all wanted to do.

It looked close, no more than a mile or two--we'd be 

there and back by lunch time.

 We started walking. And walking. And then we walked

 some more. The sun, behind us in the beginning, crept

 slowly overhead until it was in our faces--staring us 

down, as if daring us to take another step.

We just kept walking.

Eventually the sun began to dip behind the mountain

 we were walking toward and that's when I realized 

we were never going to get there. The mountain looked 

close because that's how we wanted to see it.  We'd wanted 

it so badly that we'd fooled ourselves into believing that it'd

 be an easy thing to do.  We turned around and headed home,

 making it back just before dinner... and we never tried to 

walk to that mountain again.

I feel like I've been walking forever... I know that two years

 is nothing compared to the time and talent that so many

 other people have spent on this crazy quest so many of us 

have decided to undertake:

The Quest for Publication.

But I'm not on their journey--I'm on mine--and I can tell

 you that these last two years have both flown and dragged. 

Have been some of the best and worst in my life. Some of the 

happiest and saddest. I've met and made so many wonderful 

friends--fellow writers and people who may not write, but 

believe in my work. And I've lost a few of those who didn't 

want to follow me to the places I was going. I learned so

 much about the person that I am and have finally started 

to realize the person I want to be. I want to be fearless. 

Truly fearless... to do that, I have to face my biggest fear.

I'm afraid to fail. And being afraid to fail means being

 afraid to try...

Two years ago, I made the decision that I was going to make

 publication my goal. That meant that I'd have to try and in

 doing so, risk failing at something I loved. I waffled. Setting

 it on fire started looking like a viable option. Then this little 

voice in the back of my mind said, "but then you'll never know..." 

and it was right. If I didn't try, I'd never know if I was good

 enough. Suddenly, the fear of not knowing seemed bigger 

than any other. Failure still terrifies me, but in my writing, 

I've finally found something that's worth the risk.

I started walking. I'm still walking... and this time, I'm not turning back.