No one said writing would be easy. I think, if it was, maybe it wouldn’t have such a mysterious, fascinating attraction to it. Not everyone can stick writing…not everyone can finish “that” book. But, there’s always a chance that you could…so you try. You have a go. Maybe that’s why so many people write.
Closet writers. We’re not published. Sometimes we don’t even confess to it. But we do write, feverishly, behind closed door, making our finger work double time across the keyboard until we have line after line of black letters dancing across our screen. And then we sit back and smile. Those are our words. And we worked hard to get them there.
I want to be published someday (don’t we all?). I’m writing my seventh book, and, I’m warning you, if you’re doing a series, it only gets harder. Especially by book 7. There’s so much to tie together, to pull into one, interesting, fast-moving, concentrated story line. And, just as a sideline, it has to make sense.
I suppose, that’s why we say, writing’s hard.
But we still do it. Why?
There are so many rewards. We know them, really, deep down inside. Seeing all those pages, filled with your imaginings, your writings, your ideas, your thoughts and expressions? That’s reward. Coming out of the closet and showing someone else your work? That’s reward too. Getting good feedback? Well, that’s an even better reward.
But there’s others. Finishing something. Writing an amazing story. Using your imagination to the full. Discovering things…about what you’ve written…about yourself.
There’s hard parts. There’s rewards. But why do we do it?
Maybe we sort of have to. Hard or not.
FIVE MINUTES. STOP.