It is a Compulsion that I CANNOT Quench…

…this thing called writing.

It just won’t go away no matter how much I try.

Yet this same compulsion causes me so much agony.

Because I see no results.

My works languish like a worn out farm tractor sitting in a field.

Relegated to word documents that sit on my computer.  Filed away on some hard drive never to be seen.

I pray, “God direct me.  Use me.  Use this gift.”

And I feel no answer.

It frustrates me.

I’m not getting any younger.

I feel called to something more, something great even, but it never comes.

Or it’s too slow in coming.

“God’s timing.”

Yep, got it.  Doesn’t help me much though.

My YA paranormal is going nowhere.  Discouraging.

I’ve basically given up on the thing.

“Who am I?”

Not Tim Tebow.  Jenny McCarthy.  Bill Clinton.  Sarah Palin.  Or anyone else famous who has written a book.

Started a new novel this morning.

Well, not new.  It’s a resurrected idea that I plan to completely re-write.

For I can only write what I know.  What I have learned.  What I think others NEED to know before they learn it the hard way like I did.

And tears are shed…

Still, my heart remains heavy.  No relief.  Just anxiety…

I feel lost right now.  Debating about taking unpaid work (being a columnist again) just to satisfy this yearning deep within…

Debating a lot of things I could do.  Trying to come up with new ideas.

Yet my dream remains the same.

There must be room for me.  Hundreds of books are published every year.  I have a niche…

Somewhere…

For everyone has a story to tell.

I just wish (and pray) I could pinpoint mine.

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When I’m Rich and Famous, I am SO Hiring a Professional Editor…

What I’m Dreaming Of…

I just spent 2 hours editing a grand total of 2 of my novel pages.

With every edit I tell myself this is the last one.  Then I convince myself to do one more reading…

Always my downfall.

So “this is my last reading.”  Was supposed to be quick.  Supposed to be…

Exasperation reigns right now.

I now know why every author thanks their editor on the “Thank You” page of their book.

And as soon as I get a novel published, I’m hiring one.

Because this stuff should DEFINITELY be left to the professionals…

Ode to the Struggling Writer…

Ode to the Struggling Writer…

 

I don’t know why I agonize

Does it matter if it’s “just” or “only”?

No one will ever read it anyways

It’s just for my eyes

Or is it only?

 

Still….

I continue anyways

Some dim hope glimmers

And pushes

Despite the meaningless I feel.

 

As time ticks by

I ebb and flow

But unlike the Moon

It matters to me.

 

And that is all I know.

Here I Go Again…

So, I’ve started going over my novel again after about a month of inactivity.  It’s one of my summer goals to finish up the editing.

Admittedly, I did not want to do this.  Thoughts kept running through my mind of, “Is this really my calling?  Why am I wasting my time again?  Maybe I should just give up…”

But you know me.  Giving up is not an option and I don’t like to lose  so I began.  I made little changes here and there that I actually liked.  And after about 2 hours of working on my first chapter, I ended the session with a bit of a high, thinking, “Okay, so this is better.”

And encouragement to continue in this endeavor.

I am also learning stuff about writing from my kids homeschool curriculum.  Where was this stuff when I was a kid?  I continually think my education was severely deprived or at least hindered when I see what my 8 year old and 7 year old are learning.  And at their age!

They are learning stuff I don’t even know!  In a way it makes me jealous, gives me incredible hope for them, and inspires me that you can teach an old dog new tricks (our saying for the week we are learning!).

It feels good to be back on track again.  I just pray this continues for the immediate future, long enough to finish this project and start seeking an agent for it.

Yet most importantly I feel continually blessed by God every day of my life.  I know no matter what happens He is there, always, by my side, cheering me on and holding me up. Forever.

I Want to Be a Novelist, Not a Columnist…

Let’s face it: none of us are getting any younger.

I have come to realize lately as my 3 year old is rapidly approaching 4 that I no longer have any “babies” in terms of needing constant care.  Which means I am getting older too.

My dream has been for a while now to be a novelist.  It is what drives me every day to do what I do.

This columnist gig was great but it takes up a lot of my writing time.  Instead of writing on my novel (which gives me an insane amount of joy), I spend time writing my column (which lately has given me little joy).

I put a lot of effort into my columns (like I do here) and the ones I think are good I get no response from the public.  I wrote a really great piece on Thanksgiving basically relating the history of Thanksgiving and how it was originally meant to thank GOD and no one else and how it has all been secularized.

Nothing.  No emails.  No on-line responses.

I write opinion pieces on laws and I get told to go back to where I come from.

I feel I am not impacting anyone.  And I feel God has called me to make an impact.

I have felt this way since the end of September but I pushed forward.  However, I can’t ignore my gut any longer.

With only so much time in the day that is actually mine, I must make cuts.  And this is the first one on the chopping block.

I want to spend as much time with my kids as possible while still pursuing my dreams. Right now, I only have one dream.  And it has nothing to do with a career in newspaper land.

NOTE OF CLARIFICATION:  I am speaking about the column I am writing in my local newspaper, NOT THIS BLOG!  This is a blog, not a column.  Sorry for any confusion!!!

Do You Get Discouraged Easily?

I do.  Probably too easily.

Especially when it comes to my writing.  I just don’t have the confidence in my abilities to do it “right” I guess.

My blog.  My column.  My unpublished works.  Is any of it really good or are people just being nice?  Does any of it serve a purpose?

Diane lovingly told me my heart’s on my sleeve and I am too sensitive.  This is true.  Have been my whole life.  I don’t like criticism.  It cuts something deep for whatever childhood reason.

Yet I keep doing it.  Can’t stop really.  Prompted by God.  Or seeking some kind of approval or validation.  From others.  From Him.  Like a published book in print.  “Then I’ll truly be a writer.”

Got my answer though to BSF postings from BSF themselves buried in the notes for Lesson 2.  Paraphrasing it says technology has opened up previously closed doors to sharing the gospel with others all over the world.

All of this has a purpose and a reason for preparing me for whatever God has in store for me in the future.

And I believe this of you all as well.  We’re all here.  Learning from each other. Encouraging each other.  Sharing our life’s frustrations and desires and our walk. Fighting the Devil every step of the way.  Growing.  Maturing.  Being.

I pray for you all daily; that you find whatever you are seeking (be it here or elsewhere) and you continue marching forward doing God’s call on your life despite the inevitable setbacks and complications that accompany us all.

In Jesus’ name.  Amen.

Me? A Columnist?

Thinking perhaps novel writing is not my forte, I contacted the local paper here and asked if they needed writers.  The editor returned my call and asked if I had any experience.  I said,”Nope. I write novels but would be interested in trying something new.” So he asked for a sample.

And he loved it!

I asked my husband what he thought about it.  He reluctantly agreed.  Since it’s a small town and we don’t exactly have a last name like “Smith” or “Johnson”, he was hesitant.  “I guess as long as you don’t get too personal,” he said.

When I first found out, I was excited.  Maybe this is it instead of novels.  I enjoy novels but they are time-consuming.  And apparently I suck at writing them.  Ya know, the whole plotting, character development, the works.

Me: I can’t decide.  I’m with him on some parts.  You all know how I write.  It’s not exactly fluff.  It’s deep, meaningful, and at times vulnerable.

Yet if I’m ever going to have a writing career, I gotta take a risk some time.  After all, readers have to be able to identify with you and if they can’t feel what you’re feeling, then you’ve failed as a writer.  And name recognition goes a long way into getting a novel published.  Look at all the celebrities who get their works published just because of who they are.

So, I thought I’d ask you all your opinions since you all “know” me about as well as anyone.  What do you think?  Should I write for a newspaper or not?