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I guess I'm not quitting. (subtitle: The writing life is a terrible one. Do not recommend.)


I received a rejection today. Not my first, and I'm certain it will not be my last. No rejections feel great, but this one in particular stung because I really believed that this project was a good one. I thought I did well, and the one receiving it thought otherwise.

So this grown 35-year-old woman cried. Big, fat tears. And whined to her husband about it.  And thought that maybe she should just quit because what is the point of all of these hours spent writing if they aren’t paying our bills, and if they aren’t even appreciated?

Today felt a little more like being punched in the gut than a simple rejection. It hurt and I wallowed in it.  I let myself sit and roll around in self-pity and I’m embarrassed now and am only sharing because transparency feels like the best policy if I’m writing, you know?

Briefly I felt like giving all of this up.  Quitting. I’m not good enough.  I’ve shared that with friends before, my feelings on my writing talent, or lack thereof.  It’s not there – yet.

But the desire hasn’t left me.  It started out as tiny embers stirring around in the juvenile version of me and I know as I write these words just how corny they are, maybe, but it’s a fire now.  And it’s funny that it’s grown into that because I have journals in my closet – old journals – dating from age 9 to age 30 (not kidding) and there is a recurring theme among the years . . .

Can you guess what that is? My younger self always said in those journals that she would grow up to be a writer.  My 9-year-old self.  My 17-year-old self.  Beyond . . .

So. As hard as this is, I guess I will keep trying.  I still want this if I’m being honest.  I want to write more- be published more- and get better with each word that I write.

(Sigh) I’m also trying my best to be an example to my kids.

My 8-year-old shared with me today after school that there is a girl in her class who doesn’t like her. I wanted to get through to her – so I actually told her “Do you know that some people don’t like Taylor Swift?” (she thinks that Taylor Swift is the coolest ever.) And she was shocked by this. “It’s true,” I told her. “No matter what you do, there will still be people who don’t like you. But you don’t focus on them. You focus on the people who DO like you, and I know you have plenty of good friends who care about you.”

She was content and smiled at this, but at the same time I was still secretly trying to wallow in my rejection.

But . . . God. He has His ways, doesn’t He?

It was clear as I was trying to encourage my daughter that God was trying to encourage me.  So I’m here stubbornly admitting publicly that I’m not quitting writing. Not yet.

I have dreams to pursue and children to motivate and a God who loves me despite all of my failings and He has my back.

So here’s to the first blog post in a long while, and here’s to me finishing book 4 and here’s to me continuing on this writing life path with the unknown future.  Oh.  And to hoping the next submission fares better!

Until next time . .  .



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