|Taken around the time I wrote my first novel, five years ago.|
Dude, time for a discouraging, yet very honest, post.
For nearly five years, I’ve checked my e-mails daily, hoping for a word from an agent…and then from a publisher. Sometimes I think I’m going to be certifiable at the end of this experience. I’ve wrestled with grief. I’ve compared myself to other authors. I’ve poured my heart out to God, only to come up feeling empty and un-listened to.
I’ve skimped on meal-planning for my fam. I’ve fallen behind in my laundry. I’ve ticked off my husband with my oft-pensive moroseness over the hardships of getting published. Sometimes I sit in church, and instead of listening, I’m brainstorming for my story.
I’ve almost given up, more than a few times. In fact, I don’t know why I HAVEN’T given up on this dream of being published–of having my books speak to people. I think it’s because of blog readers, writer friends, family, and FB supporters who won’t give up on ME.
That, and the fact that I don’t know how to go back. I can’t go back to NOT being a writer. Yes, it’s possible to take down the blog, the twitter, the FB author page–I could try to go back to being a homeschooling mom and wife, who was content to be only those things.
Sometimes, I honestly wish I could.
But I’ve come too far to go back, even though I have no clue when I’ll be seriously moving forward. People are following this dream, right along with me. People who want to read my stuff. People who think I can write.
I don’t even have a sum-it-up take-away today. I guess I’m just here to say that I’m Heather Day Gilbert, author, and I couldn’t give up writing if I tried.