A Writer’s Recovery
I’m starting this blog on the Wednesday before I publish it. All writers know that the career we’ve chosen is fraught with downs. And I think they have a magnetic quality, because they tend to come in groups. You may get a “dear author” rejection, a bad critique, and that feeling like you hate every one of the 93,000 words you spent the year putting on paper.
Don’t be fooled. These are not what you think they are. These are not indications that you lack the talent your mother insists you have—or your best friend. These are the blows that make you say, “Oh yeah?” Okay, maybe you kick the dog or sleep for twenty hours first, but then you say, “Oh, yeah?”
I’m coming off a group of downs. I beat them off with tennis balls this morning. Now I think, at the writer’s conference I’m attending this weekend, something wonderful is going to happen. It’s true, my favorite agent, with whom I was going to meet, isn’t coming. That just leaves more room for something else to take its place. Maybe something wonderful.
So, I bought a new, bright pink sweater to wear at the conference. I’ve packed pages to be critiqued, and I’ve practiced a pitch for another agent.
Will I get ups or downs? I’ll finish the blog on Monday after the conference.
My recovery went well. The writer’s conference, put on by the Space Coast Writer’s Guild, was terrific. My personal best. I had a great critique on my WIP, except for the twenty or so commas he added. I pitched two separate manuscripts to two different agents; both asked for submissions, in spite of my nervous babbling. I received kudos for my new work, which is in the planning stages, with comments like “excellent” and “I think this will sell,” from the publisher who was teaching the class. I also made some new friends and met some interesting people. The food was delicious and plentiful. I got a contact for an interview I needed. Best of all, I’m going to prison! Only to tour, of course. All ups! I’m raring to get to work again.