If you think about it, God loves risk-takers. Seriously. To launch the church, He put all He had in His Son and a handful of nobodies. Risk-taker. Big time.
Writers are notoriously solitary; we are creative, artistic people who see the world and all its glory--and all its yuck. We write from pain and woundedness; we lay it all out there.We write the glory, the joy. We write because we must. The words must come out. Jeremiah said he grew weary trying to hold back his words. We modern day scribes are no different. Yet, I must ask: What do we do with our writ when it is complete?
Shove it in a drawer is the general practice.
Here's where the risk-taking comes into play. Write it--no problem. Send it to an editor. Screech, the brakes engage. What do you mean, "Send it to an editor?" You mean, like to have someone critique it? No way.
I can hear your heads nodding.
I've made a huge decision. I'm sick of writing and shoving my scribbles into a drawer. I have a practical streak a mile wide; it got the better of me. I've spent too much time and energy writing my novels to deposit them into the wasteland of the bottom drawer. I saved up money and hired an excellent editor. I then mailed my manuscript to him and challenged him to do his worst. I can't improve as an author if I refuse to open myself and writing up to close inspection from an expert.
Rip it to shreds. Light it on fire and send me the ashes (an ugly suggestion but it happened to a now famous author).
I write for a purpose: ministry to others and for His glory. My writing will achieve neither of these purposes if I throw it into the abyss with the rest of my notes. So. There you have it. My baby is now in the hands of an editor. If you hear a primal scream, it will me be reading the red slashes abundantly speckled across the pages of my manuscript. I'll get over it. I'll learn and put into practice the advice of my editor.
One day, when you see my book on the NY Times best seller list, you'll know why.