Failing and Falling and Such

This summer I blew the job opportunity of a lifetime. It was an out-of-nowhere opportunity to get my foot a door, to work with incredibly talented people, and learn a crap-ton about writing. The phone interview went splendidly. I was articulate, I didn’t talk too fast, I answered all the questions in a satisfactory manner. The Skype interview went well. I was slightly less articulate, but not anything horrible. Then they gave me an editing test. Now, editing is something that I love passionately. I get excited about it and I am good at it. At least that’s what I told myself.

I completely bombed this test. And not just didn’t-do-well. Embarrassingly bombed. I tell myself it happened for a myriad of reasons (it was a crazy test, I was tired, I felt rushed, etc.), but in the back of my mind there is doubt. What if you’re really not any good at this thing that you love? My inner self asks. Shut up, I’m amazing, I always reply. But still the doubt remains.

Today someone offered to give my resume to a company that I would cut off my pinky toes to work for. I froze inside. What if I’m not good enough? What if, miracle of miracles, I got the job and was horrible at it and they had to fire me because I was incompetent?

Thinking about failing that editing test makes me want to throw up, then lay down in bed and cry and never attempt anything ever again. I really, really wanted that job.

But it also made me angry at myself, perhaps angry enough to get me off my lazy butt and read and write and edit and become the best editor ever. One day I am going to pull out that crazy editing test and edit the be-jeebers out of it. Then I’m going to frame it. How else are we supposed to grow except by trying and failing, then getting back up and trying again?

So here’s me turning over a new leaf. I’m going to write. And write, and write, and take opportunities that come my way, and learn from failure.