I can write. I think I do a fairly good job of putting a story together. My characters are fully fleshed out not cardboard cutouts.
I think I’m very good at descriptive writing, setting the stage and drawing the reader into the scene.
What I have not been good at is finishing. I can finish the story, that’s not the problem. Getting my story out of revisions to final publication and then printed format is a different matter.
Savannah Verte offered me the golden ring – the goal line that I’ve never been able to cross. It wasn’t easy there were deadlines– a lot of deadlines. I had to put myself on a real honest-to-goodness schedule. There was an endpoint and dates. I work from an outline so it was real easy to take each numbered point divisible by the days remaining subtracting the time allowed for editing to know when I had to reach the end. If I were a pantser then I can see where that might have been more daunting.
I’ve heard many people say that the writing is the easy part. I’ve never thought that before now, but I’m beginning to understand that statement. It’s a whole new ballgame for me. It’s like, I’ve always played football – American football – then suddenly I have to switch to futball – or rather soccer, – what the rest of the world views as football.
I understand the rules of the game. I understand the position of the players. I understand how you keep score. However, I had assigned myself as the water girl, watching the other players on the field. Bringing them a soothing cup of water and relief for their hard work while I longed to be on that field.
Now I really don’t want to play football, I’m certain you understand it’s an allegory. For me, the game is the world of publishing. I’ve always questioned myself, delved into the self-doubt, given into the self-criticism and allocated myself as not good enough to play. Eclectic Bard Books has given me the chance to get off the players bench and onto the field.
The thrill is real.
I’m not afraid of public speaking, I’ve done it loads of times. So why was it so intimidating to me, and so daunting to get to the “Published author” status? I dunno. I’ll have to think on it for a while.
It’s not the Friday night lights, but I did get to see my name in lights.
It’s going to be a wonderful ride!
As I go forward from here, excited about the future potential, thrilled at my debut appearance, and encouraged to push forward I have to think about the next race. Once you’ve crossed the finish line, then you know you can do it. It’s not that I quit, because I am against quitting in a big way.
I did the same thing oh so many years ago when I would avoid the piano recitals. I knew I could play the pieces, but to have people – especially my mother – sit and listen to how well I mastered the techniques, I deemed that I couldn’t.
Just this last week, we had a funeral for a man that dedicated himself to raise his children better than he had been raised, because his father was never around. He would tell his son “Don’t ever say I can’t.”
Any time his son said ‘I can’t’, he would make him run a lap. At just 19 years old this son stood before funeral attenders,sharing that at the hospital he had cried out to God proclaiming that he couldn’t go on without his dad. He heard his dad’s voice inside his head saying: Go run the lap.
My point is this: we often set limits on ourselves and proclaim “I can’t” for various reasons. Do I really need to understand the psychology of why? Or is it enough to realize that I decided that limit and I can change it? Either way, Savannah was there for me to say: Go run a lap!
It’s a new day, a new dawn, and a new chance. I’m wading into the shallow end dipping in my toes, a little nervous to dive into the deep. I know there are sharks in the water. But, . . .
I’m not going to live my life afraid!
It’s always good to assess the situation before you jump. Eventually though, I’m going to go there, cross that line where the shallow drops off into the deep, when you can no longer feel the bottom and it’s sink or swim.
Did I mention I love to swim?
Come on in, the water’s fine.
Until next time ~ Ellie.