I love telling people that I am writing a novel. I’m proud of myself for following a dream/interest I’ve had since I was a child (there are stories in my diary that I wrote when I was 6 that are quite hilarious now). I am excited to be doing something that models for my children not only the benefit in following our passions, but is a learning experience in itself. So many conversations have evolved from having them sit next to me while I write scenes, create character backstories, work on plot outlines, etc;
But . . .
I also detest telling people that I am writing a novel. For some, it is that they are unaware of the business aspect behind it and expect me to be able to be published by Christmas (okay, maybe not that quickly, but it’s a breeze to get published, right?). For others, it is knowing they believe in me so much that I am fearful of an overwhelming sense of failure if it doesn’t work out. And THEN I get angry at myself for worrying about such things.
Would I love to be published? Absolutely! Would it be awesome to land an agent, have experts believe that I have talent? Um, yeah! Would it be totally cool to have a printed book on the shelf of Barnes and Noble with my name on the cover, containing a story that I created from start to finish? Oh my goodness, yes!
But . . .
That is not why I am doing this. I am writing because I want to push myself to create. To do something that I’ve always wanted to do but let fear or intimidation keep me from pursuing. So my children can see their Mama doing something she loves and trying her best, regardless of the outcome. Even if I completely fail.
Most days I remember these reasons but every once in awhile, the people-pleaser side of me creeps in, worrying what “they” will think: if they don’t like what I write; if no one does; if I write twenty stories and never land an agent.
The small voice that tells me I’m not good enough.
Today, I’m telling that small voice to take a hike. To kiss my writer butt. I am good enough. If I never sell a book, land an agent, or see my name on a book cover, I’ll still be good enough. My value and worth is not determined by those things. I am writing because I love to do it, it is fun, and I get joy from the creative process.
Why do you write??
