The other day I wanted to post something on a Facebook group called Realm Makers Consortium. I didn’t know what exactly, except that it be humorous. After staring at that evil cursor for about two minutes, this popped into my head:
“I asked God to teach me patience, so he made me a writer.”
Writing, like any other skill, takes a lot of work. Years of work and study. Learning the rules, knowing when to break them, reading a lot of books both in and out of our chosen genre to discover what works and what doesn’t. Why certain tropes and writing structures work for some genres and not for others. Writing hundreds of thousands — if not millions — of words to discover our own unique voice.
Deciding what to publish, when, to whom, to go indie, vanity or traditional. To spend countless hours searching for editors, cover artists for indie publishing, agents and traditional publishers. To wait weeks if not months for that almost inevitable rejection letter, yet still hopeful for an acceptance. Trying to convince ourselves that another rejection won’t hurt as much as the last one, and to not want to scream into a pillow and vow we will never write another word when it does come.
A few days ago, I went back through my original blog about my journey to get published, and I tried not to cringe at the date of my first entry: September 16, 2005.
Have I really been at it this long? Should I be embarrassed that after so much time I have so little to show for it?
Or should I be grateful?
Because I trust God and his plan for me, I’m going for grateful. I haven’t sat idle while I wait. I’ve spent that time writing, reading, studying and honing my craft. When I look back at what I wrote thirteen years ago, I have improved. Much of it was unpublishable, but I couldn’t see it at the time. God did, however, and that’s another reason I am grateful.