CLOSE BUT NO CIGAR...

Perseverance.

One of the most important aspects of writing. If you want to send your work out, be published. Which is what I want to do. Am determined to do. But this year has definitely been a learning curve.

Twice, by two different publishers, I have been asked to send my entire novel(s) - one a children's novel, one a young adult. One I reworked according to the feedback and as suggested sent back- and after months and months of waiting- got the 'sorry but not right for us in the end'.

It is frustrating. It is depressing. It really makes me wonder why bother...in my bad moments. Which like most of us that write, out number the good moments. Sometimes you wonder if there will ever be another good moment....that the bad- the rejections, the silences, the 'getting nowhere' seem to be in abundance. And all thoughts of writing seem fanciful, and spun in daydreams.

But if you look at it in a positive light- (which some days is just so difficult) it means both of these books have something about them. Publishers have seen something in the snippets sent out, asked to see the entire work. And both publishers were very kind in giving feedback. In both cases, detailed and valuable feedback.

And I am persevering...although I wonder why...how...and how much more I have in me.

And in those good moments when some form of sanity and resolution returns, I know that it is all down to determination. Keep working. Keep at it. Take the advice, listen to it if you want, ignore it if you want, but keep working at the craft. Keep on putting pen to paper, get those words down.


At work yesterday we had a Storytelling Cafe- a chance for those to read their own work, to talk writing - and once again I was so inspired by sharing with like minds. Understanding those pitfalls, those joys, those days when you think 'WHAT THE...'

One person was insistent that publishing was not for him, writing was his escape, his need to try and make sense of his life. I agreed. Writing is that for me as well, but I want more.

Perhaps that is greedy. Perhaps there will be no 'more' for me. These small victories and successes I've had will be it, no more....but part of me wants to believe that there is more that I can do. More that I can achieve.

And so I keep on. Some days are much harder than others, I won't lie and say I wake up eager to write, knowing that wonderful prose will drip from my pen. But I know, that at least for now, I can't stop.

Giving up is tempting. It is easy. It is simple to do. But that piece of vanity persists....that belief that I can do more.

That I will do more...