Scared . . . Do-less
I read a fellow-writer's comment the other day about her beginnings as a prospective author. She'd sent out to a few publishers her manuscript (our babies!) and gotten rejected.
Now Kim is a gentle soul; writes gentle stories and the rejection hurt--big time. She decided she would write, but never subject herself to rejection again.
I can sympathize because I hate rejection, too. I hate being exposed to criticism. I hate people reading my "stuff" and not getting it. After all, what's wrong with them? Others like it, praise it, want to see it printed. Don't they know what they're doing? Are they all brain-dead?
Maybe, maybe not.
But Kim had a dad who pushed her. He helped her to get self-pubbed at the first, then pushed her on and on to other goals. And now? Well, you might have read some of Kim V Sawyer's gentle Amish stories. They're on bestseller lists.
What have I had?
Brainstorming sessions with qualified partners.
Critiques from published authors.
An agent -- God sent -- who believes in my writing.
Editors who request!
A deep-seated desire that won't go away, that keeps pushing me, keeps me believing, keeps me hoping, keeps me plotting and writing, sweating and working. Something that pushes me past the hurt and rejection and discouragement and endless waiting.
Cause, you know, some day --soon-- it's going to happen.
And what does the title of this blog mean? Sometimes you quit, you're in the land of "do-less." You've quit. You turn your back on it all. But . . .
You don't build a house and stay. You just camp out, rent a room, and then you move on. You're too restless. There's tons more ideas out there waiting on your brain power and finger movement to get it down. To write another book.
"Do-less" is a state we all find ourselves now and then. A state that we visit now and again. It's just not a permanent one.
Behold the turtle who only makes progress when he sticks his neck out. -- Cecil Parker