Two weeks. This is the amount of time I have to freak out, panic, and just plain worry.
Within two weeks, I’ll find out if all that hard work and stress paid off. If I’m deemed worthy of their program, if I have potential as a writer. Today I sent in my application for the University of Chicago’s Certificated in Writing program. I had a month to put together my writing sample, 10-20 pages of strong work, and I did it.
Now I’m nervous as hell. Even though I just applied today, every time I get an email I get nervous and anxious. I know in my head it’s too soon to be hearing from them, but I just know that until I hear from them, rational thought and reasoning won’t always be my strong suit. If I get in, it’ll tell me I have a chance at this–that hey, maybe I am a decent writer. If I don’t… well, yeah, that’ll hurt a bit. There’s only a limited amount of students accepted each term, and I don’t know who I’m up against in my genre. So I realize there are other factors that could change my fate in this.
This is something I love, something I enjoy doing and want to keep doing… I want to improve, and yeah, some day publish some things. It’s scary, but some things are worth the risk.
Fingers crossed, everyone. Fingers crossed.