I’ll Be On Stage Anyway.

Week two of drafting queries. I’m still learning from the query by a writer friend. In her e-mail she joked how it was grossly exaggerated: a sales pitch. I’d read enough of her manuscript to know that whatever she felt she presented a real belief in her work. I saw Confidence.

Years ago, I went to Dekalb College to learn how to become an interpreter to the deaf; for the program I also volunteered at the Atlanta School for the Deaf. But one serious consideration led me to drop out: I was terrified to talk to the Deaf. But I decided to sign Silent Night for a Christmas program.

Sign Language is beautiful. Unless you’re using Signed Exact English, it might seem to be interpretive because the grammar structure is loose. I don’t know if that’s the same, now. It was the case fifteen years ago. On Couch Jump Dog. Dog Jump Couch On. Dog On Couch Jump. It’s language in gestured hieroglyphics. You’re drawing a story. It is a language where you have to pay attention to the person you’re sharing with. It is a language where trust is a valued key. At least, it seemed so to me. It broadcasts everything to the observer. And it’s remarkably clear because of it. But I withdrew from the program because I was continually terrified I’d accidentally insult someone Deaf. My fear would have been as obvious to them as if I’d written it on my forehead in bold black ink.

I wasn’t just constrained in Sign. I’d been fluent in Afrikaans and French. If I didn’t know you, I used English. Why did I decide to Sign in front of a large crowd? And lead a small group of volunteers? I had to teach them the song.

At the beginning of our rehearsals I made a decision. I’d already decided to do the performance. I told them that if at any time during they decided they couldn't face being up there, I understood. I’d love them to be there, but I’d be up there anyway. Only one person dropped out.

Sending out queries, I am just as afraid. Over the years my language use has improved. My stories are interesting. But a query is one sheet of paper you use to prove you’ve got the confidence and self discipline to not waste their time. And each time I wrote one, in the past. In black ink, I’m sure I was broadcasting, “I’m afraid of you.”

But there are two things on my side: The times and different ways I do connect with others, and the memories of committing to something I could have been scared of.

I have to ask myself: Do you want this? Uhm…

Choosing fear over commitment creates bad habits. The issues that prevented me from becoming an interpreter, or speaking my second or third language—at the cost of fluency!—were the same with writing queries. And that’s in English! I could pretend to reach for excellence in my writing and suffer from the lack of self discipline.

I have to choose, and I have to commit. I’m practicing for the big show. And I have to decide now, no matter how I feel, that I’ll be on stage anyway!