Be Realistic

As any writer, I've had my share of rejections. Maybe, even more than my share. The thing I love about it is being able to complain to my friends who reinforce why I'm in the game. They tell me they love my writing, to keep pushing, keep going. Sometimes, it's what I need. Sometimes, their words are air.

Then, sometimes I come across the neigh-sayers. The ones who say, "You're not Stephenie Meyer," "Maybe you're done trying?" and things like that. Most recently, I'd gotten the advice to, "Be realistic. Maybe this just isn't for you."

B*tch, what'd you say?
*This is such an awful picture, lol*

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Literally. Why?

Firstly, I believe in my writing. I believe in it because in middle school, people would steal my notebooks to read the crap I'd jotted on the sides of my notes. Because in my high school English class, I'd gotten encored after the poetry unit. In my creative writing class, people would fall silent after I'd share. In my other classes people would steal my notebooks that were now only used for poems and rambles. I'd lose the notebook for a couple days while it cycled through friends, and eventually get it back with, "That was really, really good. I liked this one the most."

In college, I got my first publications. At the end of college I started attending my first writing conferences.

And on February 15, 2011, I entered the agent game with a mediocre novel that got a full manuscript request the night of my birthday (which is in April, in case you missed that blog :) ). It got rejected, of course, because well...it sucked (see Confessions of an Immortal Heart. It needs lots, and lots of work). I was told, "I couldn't connect with the characters."

Then I read at my first open mic night, in front of other professionals and friends. And after I finished my set, which I cut short due to fear and feeling like I was suddenly ill equipped, I was asked to come up and read everything else I'd decided not to read.

You gotta take the punches,
And keep rollin'

Now, a little more than a year later, I'm starting to understand the difference between showing and telling more than ever before. There's still a disconnect, and I'm still getting rejected.

And I'm still going.

Why?

Because I'm getting bites, which tell me that my ideas are there, they're marketable, they just aren't being articulated well enough, and that's my fault, because I haven't mastered my craft yet. It doesn't mean that I'm a bad writer, or that I should give up.

I am being realistic. I LOVE the novels I've written; the characters, the plots, the reasons I wrote them. I'm still getting requests, just not acceptances, because there is still work to do.

I won't give up.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep."

~Robert Frost