I Have to Tell It
I have the best writing friends ever. I send them a query to look over, and they write me ASAP. Wow. I could probably count on one hand the number of writing hours I was free of Those Who Trespass. Don't get me wrong: I love that story. I love it tremendously. But I'm not going to lie, I was feeling like a kid on the first day of summer break. "Yes! I don't have to look at it anymore!" And then I got it back. And now I'm working on it again, because that's how I roll. It's kinda crazy. There are times, like this morning, when I look at myself and wonder how I do it. I mean, if I were me, I couldn't do it. :) I keep trying, and writing, and persevering, even though I don't have any results except the encouraging comments of others. And it's hard. I'm not going to lie. It's hard to keep going. It's even harder to keep going after a break. It's like running uphill, into the wind, through mud. So why do we keep doing it? Because it's worth it. To do what you're called to do - there's no better pursuit. And we writers are called to write. To keep perfecting our craft, to continue in our love of words and plots, of characters of romance, that's what we do. To not do it would be to deny what makes us - us. It's worth it. There is a finished story at the end, a finished book, a finished query. There are compliments and congratulations and encouraging words. There are full requests and publishing deals and hardcover books in our hands. There are book signings and readers and emails that say we changed a life. There are words on a page that tell a story that no one else has told, or will ever tell again. That's why I write. That's why I open documents I'm sick of, and change query wordings for the million-and-one-th time. Because it's my story. And I have to tell it.