Thursday, December 11, 2008


I can see my WIP, a minimized window on my computer, opened to the spot I last wrote. All I need to do is click and the pages will blossom before my eyes. And yet it doesn't move. I switch to email. I go to Facebook. I look up cookie recipes. Eventually I get out of my chair and do some laundry or dishes. I watch television or play a computer game. Anything but maximizing my document and writing.

Its avoidance. I know it, no reason to deny it. I have plenty of excuses as to why I can't write at the moment. Too many other things to do. Life is too busy to devote to my writing. I'm sure these concepts are familiar to most of you. The excuses may differ but avoidance is still the end result.

What am I avoiding? Well, my book is nearing its end. Truly, I could probably finish in a couple of weeks and take another week to edit and polish. In no time it would be ready to submit to my agent. But there's the rub.

Dark visions fill my head. I'm dream of sending it to my agent and hearing "gee, I didn't know your six year old could type. She does a pretty good job. Oh, I'm sorry, you wrote this? Easy mistake." Or maybe she loves it and can't wait to sell it and again I hear from editors that they just don't love it enough or they don't know where to put it in their lines, yada yada yada. And with the gloomy news about the economics of publishing, only people named Nora Roberts or Stephen King are going to get published.

Before I got an agent, I was pretty oblivious to things. I wrote the book I wanted without worrying whether someone was going to like it. The apple was so far up the tree I could only dream about it. Now I have an agent and I have a stepladder to get to that apple. The goal is within my grasp but darn if there isn't a stiff wind blowing the branch away from me. I think I'm more pessimistic about my writing than I was before. The dream isn't nearly so golden anymore.

Oh, I haven't quit writing. I will finish this book and I will submit it. Despite my bleak view, I still believe in dreams of publication. I'm a writer and I enjoy writing. I also believe in my work. And like the lottery, you can't win unless you play. I won't have any chance of publication if I don't submit. And in the scope of things, there are worse things in life than rejection.

How hard do you take rejection? Does it hinder your writing?

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