Well, hi there!
Fellow writers and aspiring authors will know what I mean when I say that writing (fiction in particular), is all-consuming. The characters we create live and breathe in our minds, even more so when we are not paying attention to them. Over the years I've been working on two novels (genres YA speculative fiction and literary fiction for women) and am now ready to send out into the world again after many rewrites and edits. And even after all of this I know that it's still not really ready and it will never be. Editing is a never-ending process. It's not easy to send professionals the labour of your love (it must be love - no one in their right mind does this for the money, right?).
The harsh reality is that your creative writing will be critically analysed while being poked at with red ink, perhaps even doodled over. They will glare sideways at your unknown name and frown disgustedly when they see you have no writing credentials before shoving it into the shredder ergonomically located right next to their desk. But, for the sake of a writer's sanity, there comes a time when those characters you've made wakes you up in the middle of the night and creepily whispers, 'Ericaaa... I want to be known.' Not disturbing at all.
Fellow writers and aspiring authors will know what I mean when I say that writing (fiction in particular), is all-consuming. The characters we create live and breathe in our minds, even more so when we are not paying attention to them. Over the years I've been working on two novels (genres YA speculative fiction and literary fiction for women) and am now ready to send out into the world again after many rewrites and edits. And even after all of this I know that it's still not really ready and it will never be. Editing is a never-ending process. It's not easy to send professionals the labour of your love (it must be love - no one in their right mind does this for the money, right?).
The harsh reality is that your creative writing will be critically analysed while being poked at with red ink, perhaps even doodled over. They will glare sideways at your unknown name and frown disgustedly when they see you have no writing credentials before shoving it into the shredder ergonomically located right next to their desk. But, for the sake of a writer's sanity, there comes a time when those characters you've made wakes you up in the middle of the night and creepily whispers, 'Ericaaa... I want to be known.' Not disturbing at all.
My heart beats at a surprisingly normal pace as I send out queries and submissions this time around. I'll save my panic attack for later, for when it will matter, for when that one agent will say, 'this does not completely suck... let me see the rest.'
Someone asked me the other day, what inspires me to keep at it when there is no reward until you are successful and absolutely zero guarantee of any success at all. Perhaps it's a combination of my stubborn nature and blind determination and the fact that it feels like I'm falling in love when I write. Butterflies tickle the inside of my stomach. The unadulterated joy of the entire novel writing process overwhelms me. Does anyone else experience this when writing?
I will post some short stories soon. And poetry. And rejection letters. Good times ahead!
In the meantime here's a song on my playlist:
I will post some short stories soon. And poetry. And rejection letters. Good times ahead!
In the meantime here's a song on my playlist:
See you soon.
EL
EL