Where was I? Oh, yes, I said I'd completed a book, stuck it in a drawer and moved on with my life.
To quote Mr. Nimzicki of Independence Day: "That is not entirely accurate."
I did submit to Tor, the publishing house of my favorite series author, Robert Jordan (may he rest in the peace, the brave coward). Following their guidelines and with full knowledge that I had no chance of getting published, I sent the first three chapters to their new submissions editor. I figured I would take the six months before the rejection to research some likely publishers that realistically might publish my book.
I got rejected in a month. My plans for research time were ruined. Being a Type B, I panicked and did nothing. Yes, all you Type A's are yelling at the computer right now. Yes, I had a dozen other options. Yes, I could have done the research I was going to do while waiting. Yes, yes, yes, you know everything. Except what is it to be Type B.
You see, my fear isn't of failure. It's of success. C.S. Lewis described it best in The Horse and His Boy, where he says something to the effect of "Shasta (the hero) had not yet learned that the reward for doing a hard task well is to be given another, harder task to do."
I learned that lesson from Shasta. I took it to heart. I was not ready for success.
So I put the book in a drawer and moved on with my writing life.
Except I didn't.
More on that tomorrow. I'm finishing a chapter tonight.