I spent some time in Publix grocery yesterday chilling in one of the four chairs lined in front of the pharmacy. While waiting for my medication to be filled, I couldn’t help but notice the hodgepodge of shoppers who shuffled past me with half-filled carts or toddlers in tow.
Almost every woman wore a T-shirt and sweats or an outfit they must have deemed suitable to use as grocery-wear. At this time of day, 1pm, I didn’t see any snappy suits or Sunday-morning dresses—mostly tired moms browsing the baby food aisles.
Now I’m not a great dresser (ask my dear daughter) but when I go to town, I try to put on something I wouldn’t wear to run the mile in. Granted, I know very few people here but I never know when I might bump into a member of my church or a former client and I don’t want them to discover my real identity—a slob.
You know where I’m going with this.
My same thoughts apply when I submit a manuscript to an editor. I don’t want to send in something I quickly pulled together from the back of my mind—something that needs a grammar check or a stronger opening.
When I submit a piece, I never know who will be reading it just like I never know who I might meet in public, so why not send my very best?
I get only one chance to make a good impression with an editor. I don’t want him seeing my high-waisted mommy jeans from the eighties or my MSC sweatshirt.
I want him to see the little black dress I wore on a cruise.
Or maybe the silver necklace my husband surprised me with for my daughter’s wedding.
First impressions are sometimes lasting.