For all my waxing on about celebrating victories and following your God-given dreams I just hit a screaming bump in the road. Last weekend was our annual writing conference, a conference where I have always come away feeling rejuvenating, inspired, and excited. It’s sort of been me and my writings group annual pilgrimage.
This time, however, half our group couldn’t make it so right off the bat it was missing something. My friend and I that did go had a great time being together, don’t get me wrong, but our fellow sisters of the pen were missed. Then the actual conference began and wow, I was not feeling inspired or rejuvenated. Instead I was feeling hopeless and discouraged. I’m at a weird place in my journey; I’m not a newbie anymore but I’m also not ready for publication and that’s an awkward place to be. It’s like I’m an adolescent in my writing journey and adolescence is always difficult.
I was so hopped up on finishing my first draft (which I still believe is important and worth celebrating) that I wasn’t ready for the crash. The hard reality of all the work left to do. And, not just work with the actual book (I feel like I’ll be able to do that) but building up an audience and “platform” to even get a publisher interested. It’s going to be hard and I’m going to have to put myself out there in uncomfortable ways. Writing is something I can do, but there’s this entire other side to publishing that I don’t feel ready to tackle I’m not sure if I’ll ever have the skills to navigate that world.
But, I must! I have to try! I believe in this story. I believe in it’s audience and I do believe God has given me a passion for both. This dream is worth fighting for, and struggling for, and undoubtedly making lots of mistakes for. I just hope I have the endurance, I hope God will open the right doors and I’ll be brave enough to fall through them.