Friday, September 30, 2011
I was eight, the day I received a shiny, gold pin for placing third in an oratorical contest. A writer was born. It was the first time I realized the true power of my words. If I concentrate, I can remember the dry, tasteless chicken; the nerves in my tummy when I presented my speech on Freedom in America; the euphoric feeling that swept me when the crowd clapped after my presentation. Over the years, I've continued to write, mostly poetry. I even published a book of poetry under another pen name. But I've never endeavored what I'm attempting now. The last ten months, I've gotten serious about my writing- observing and reading the masters, learning from my failings and honing my craft. My first attempt was a great story but my technique was lacking. My second project is blazing forth, full speed ahead, with six publishers considering it at this moment. The process of getting published is a tedious one, wrought with twists and turns, jubilation and heartbreak but it is worth it in the end (or so I'm told). Further complicating my situation, is the fact that I work full time along with writing (it's not fun, trust me). Most days I'm too tired to do much but I'm always thinking about my characters- new story lines, new character traits. I even dream about them sometimes (scary but true). I'm determined, stoked about my progress so far and too darn stubborn to give in. Balancing my life is sometimes a challenge. I'm not just a full time employee. I'm also a mother of a mentally challenged son and a wife. I hope to share my experience in this blog and inspire those who are just starting out or considering navigating the publishing realm. I'm hoping to post at least once a week (Fridays). This is the end. I can't believe I'm blogging.