I haven’t been writing.
There. My big dirty secret is out.
You see, I got busy. I know, I know, we’re ALL busy. Real writers don’t find time, they MAKE time.
It could be considered a sabbatical. Since writing was my “full-time job” for a few years, technically I’ve been on an extended period of leave from one’s customary work, especially for rest, acquiring new skills or training, etc. Yeah. That’s it. I’ve been on sabbatical. It’s amazing what one can learn about the publishing industry by working in a library. Seeing which books people REALLY read (at least in my local market) has reshaped my entire concept of what’s marketable. But more on what I’m learning from deep in the stacks another day.
I’ve also been cutting back on screen time, trying to connect with the friends and family close enough to hug instead of living within my extended cyberworld.
I’ve been on a journey to find balance in my life. I’m still searching.
But enough with these excuses. The true reason I’ve been shying away from my quest to become a published writer is that I got scared. My manuscript isn’t good enough. I’M not good enough. (This is why so many writers become drug addicts and drunks, right?) I should just bury that damn manuscript in a drawer below the pretty panties I never wear like thousands—perhaps millions—of other wannabe writers.
Then a package appeared on my doorstep.
I hadn’t ordered anything. The square brown box was far too large to contain a book for review. My birthday wasn’t for months. I opened it tentatively.
Inside I found hope.
It came in the form of a delicate sculpture. My Novel Rocket Launch Pad trophy arrived at the perfect time.
Amidst the spring blooms, turquoise waters, and clear blue skies I realized that despite its outer artistry, its true beauty was intrinsic. Inside the rocket’s seemingly hollow body swirled inspiration, affirmation, passion, pride. . . and hope.
I am a writer.
I decided the glorious reminder of not only what I won, but what I can be, would shine in any environment. It should be placed where it will serve the highest purpose: on my desk.
Perhaps it will evoke more magic—aided by hefty doses of perseverance, hard work, tenacious editing, and perhaps a smidgeon of talent. Instead of being weighed down by too many fears, this work of art will remind me to fill myself with hope, light as the stars.
A heartfelt thanks to everyone at Novel Rocket.
And now a reminder from my son’s 4th grade teacher: