Two of the scariest words I know are “hit submit.” I mean, think about it. Healthy adults aren’t supposed to do either of those things. Hitting will get you jail time, and submitting, well, let’s just say that’s not my lifestyle. Just ask my husband.
Nowadays, though, we can’t do much of anything without hitting a submit button somewhere. Everything I want to do involves agreeing to intelligible terms, pushing an innocent looking tab, and locking myself into a decision I might regret.
God only knows what all I’ve agreed to over the years. I’m expecting Facebook to demand a kidney any time now.
The real problem with hitting the submit button is that once done, it can’t be undone. It’s more permanent than marriage, really. You can undo matrimony for $65 in some states, but try and get off an e-mail list or unsubscribe from Gmail and you are facing a yearlong battle. Or worse, just try and get your name off the Internet.
Submit is just so… permanent.
Scarier still, when you do hit submit, it means something has changed. Usually, it’s something good, like buying a pair of shoes or joining an online community, but it’s not always that way. I’ve paid my taxes by hitting submit, and that wasn’t particularly pleasant.
Submit equals the point of no return and sometimes resembles a walk down the proverbial plank. I’m on that plank.
I just submitted my application for the IBSN number for a novella I will be, hopefully, publishing on Amazon in December. Even scarier than the IBSN thing, I just created an author account with them.
I mean, how did that happen? When did I think I had the stuff to be an author? Well, honestly, I probably don’t, but I’m trying anyway. In fact, I seem to be trapped by the dream of writing novels. I’ve already hit submit my NANOWRIMO novel for next month, which means I get to do this whole novel thing all over again. I just can’t help myself. My husband believes this desire stems from some unmet need in my youth and requires intense intervention, and he may be right.
Now, I’m hitting submit on this post. It isn’t such a bad thing except for the fact that once I hit submit, I can’t change my mind. I’m committed to do what I’ve said. I’ve committed to publish.
That thought terrifies me, but I’m doing it anyway.
So, please excuse me while I hit submit.