Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for;
it is a thing to be achieved.
William JenningsBryan
I’ve tried to think about what I would say or how I would address my big news this week on my blog. I’ve sat down several times to write this post and not a single word would come easily. How do I explain what a momentous event selling my first book is to me? Without sounding sappy or naïve or over the top… but then, anyone who knows me knows I’m emotional and sentimental and, yeah, hmmm. This is even more challenging than I thought. The facts: I sold my first book to Shana Smith, Associate Editor for Harlequin Desire. She called last Monday and I’ve been over the moon ever since. I’ve celebrated on Facebook, Twitter, with family and friends, and I’ll be posting my call story on The Writing Playground on Wednesday for a big online party over there! Very exciting! But I think what I want to talk about here, today, is what I’ve learned this week from receiving what we writers refer to as The Call. I’ve been writing for a long time, submitting, selling short stories, getting rejections, finalling in contests, and still no sells. Sometimes the struggle was so hard that I’ll admit, I took a couple of breaks. But I never really stopped. The voices in my head kept talking; the hope in my heart kept bobbing back to the surface. So I couldn’t stop writing, and I couldn’t stop submitting for long. As the quote above says, destiny is grounded in the choices we make, the achievements we strive for. I chose to hone my craft, actively write, edit my work, and surround myself with encouraging friends. My dream has always been to be a published author of romance novels, and through a lot of hard work, perseverance, and the direction of a great editor, that dream came true this week.
Bottom line: Perseverance isn’t fun, isn’t pretty, and doesn’t always feel good – but it can create the most beautiful results. I hope you’ll join me in celebrating Wednesday on the Playground! I’ll be sharing more details from this exciting first step in my publishing career as they become available.
Thank you for sharing this journey with me!
The other night, I had a conversation with Book Worm that went something like this:
“I can’t go to sleep. I’m not tired,” she said.
This is a familiar refrain at bedtime because it does take her a long time to fall asleep. Although, if she will just get herself quiet and still, it happens much quicker than she likes to think.
“Of course you can’t,” I said.
That prompted a perplexed look on dear daughter’s face.
“Well, if you believe you can’t, then you won’t be able to, right?”
And that’s when it hit me…
Ah, mothers! We spout Do’s, Don’t’s, and How To’s at our children, but would be ashamed if we sometimes listened to ourselves. I know I am. How many times have I thought: “I can’t write like that.” “I’ll never be that good.” “I can’t find an audience for my work.” “I can’t understand why this scene isn’t working.”
Yikes! My vocabulary is often peppered with the word “can’t”, and how can tell her not to perceive things that way when I’m the one setting the bad example? Not good. My mother told me once that the things she was afraid to do often failed, but the things she forced herself to do while pretending a confidence she may not have, most often succeeded. Being shy like me, I knew she’d stumbled onto something very profound.
When I think back there are many things I’ve thought I couldn’t do that I actually did. Have children (which is why I call them my miracle babies). Finish my first book. Sell my first short story. Final in RWA’s Golden Heart contest (c). A handful of times I’ve even said, “I can’t do this anymore,” but a week later I’m back at the computer because the characters won’t shut up.
I recently received an important revision for one of my submissions – one with a quick turnaround and very specific instructions. I was shaking in my boots when I called my mama! The minute I said, “What if I can’t do this?” she stopped me. “None of that,” she said. And she’s right (as mamas usually are!). So every time I wondered, “Can I do this?”, I stopped and told myself, “You can do this. You’ve been training for years. Just take the direction and run with it!”
I could tell you something profound, like “I vow to change my ways from here to eternity” but that’s simply not going to happen. I know myself. I’m pessimistic by nature and struggle with these kinds of things. But I do think I’ll be much more aware of my use of the word “can’t” from here on out and try to use it as a trigger for something positive.
What things have you told yourself you can’t do, but in reality, you simply needed to find a way to get there?
Ah, mothers! We spout Do’s, Don’t’s, and How To’s at our children, but would be ashamed if we sometimes listened to ourselves. I know I am. How many times have I thought: “I can’t write like that.” “I’ll never be that good.” “I can’t find an audience for my work.” “I can’t understand why this scene isn’t working.”
Yikes! My vocabulary is often peppered with the word “can’t”, and how can tell her not to perceive things that way when I’m the one setting the bad example? Not good. My mother told me once that the things she was afraid to do often failed, but the things she forced herself to do while pretending a confidence she may not have, most often succeeded. Being shy like me, I knew she’d stumbled onto something very profound.
When I think back there are many things I’ve thought I couldn’t do that I actually did. Have children (which is why I call them my miracle babies). Finish my first book. Sell my first short story. Final in RWA’s Golden Heart contest (c). A handful of times I’ve even said, “I can’t do this anymore,” but a week later I’m back at the computer because the characters won’t shut up.
I recently received an important revision for one of my submissions – one with a quick turnaround and very specific instructions. I was shaking in my boots when I called my mama! The minute I said, “What if I can’t do this?” she stopped me. “None of that,” she said. And she’s right (as mamas usually are!). So every time I wondered, “Can I do this?”, I stopped and told myself, “You can do this. You’ve been training for years. Just take the direction and run with it!”
I could tell you something profound, like “I vow to change my ways from here to eternity” but that’s simply not going to happen. I know myself. I’m pessimistic by nature and struggle with these kinds of things. But I do think I’ll be much more aware of my use of the word “can’t” from here on out and try to use it as a trigger for something positive.
What things have you told yourself you can’t do, but in reality, you simply needed to find a way to get there?