I enjoy watching competition TV shows: The Voice, American idol, The X-Factor, The Sing-off, America’s got Talent, So you Think You Can Dance. I can’t get enough of them.
Watching extremely talented people following their dreams is inspiring.
The un-inspiring part is when contestants get sucked into the notion that “money and fame will save me”. I’ve noticed that the more desperate the contestant, the less likely they are to win.
While following one’s dreams requires courage and hard work, setting our sights on one outcome, expecting to be saved, often leads to failure and sometimes despair.
I would like to take a moment to share my experience with writing.
After publishing my first novel, I waited for those five-star reviews and the sales to pour in. As I waited, I became obsessed with my Amazon sales ranking, checking it several hundred times per hour, willing that number to reach the #1 spot. “Maybe today will be the day. Maybe today will be the day. Maybe I sold ten books since the last time I looked.” But with all my looking, my ranking never reached below 76,000.
After six months of nail-munching neuroticism, I had to stop. I was driving myself bonkers over things I couldn’t control.
I was a writer, I needed to spend my time writing rather than checking numbers on Amazon. Besides, the more novels I published, the more royalties would add up. So I wrote another novel. It was deep, it was heart-felt. It was written from personal experience. This would be a breakthrough book. This book would make an impact.
I submitted it to my publisher.
My publisher said it had lots of problems, and besides, they didn’t want to publish a book like that. #Ouch!
I revised. I saw the problems my publisher mentioned, but couldn’t fix them. The problems were the essence of the story. After a long cry, I chucked that novel and started another one; crushing my dreams of publishing my second novel in six months and making a fat royalty check come January.
I began my third novel. It was good. It could be “the great American novel”. It was that good. This manuscript would make my writing dreams come true.
I was weeks away from submitting it to my publisher when my house was broken into. My laptop and external hard drive were stolen along with my almost finished novel. #doubleouch!
At that point my spirit broke. I was cursed. How can a girl become a writer when all her writing attempts are crushed?
Eventually I began another novel, a zombie novel about fashion. But the further I went into this novel the less I liked it. It felt forced and formulaic. I turned it into a screenplay in an effort to save it, and the more I worked on the story, the more I hated it. I chucked the whole thing.
I descended into deep inadequacy. Was I even a good writer? Would anyone like my writing, ever? What if I went back to school and became a brain surgeon?
Eventually I picked myself up again. I spent two days reworking my resume and writing samples, and applied for jobs as a copy writer. I could learn a lot while writing eight hours a day.
As I stewed over my writing failures, I knew that whatever path I chose, I needed to stay on that path. I needed a goal and a purpose and not give up, ever. Hanging all my dreams on one idea meant that if it failed I would feel hopeless again and give up writing for the next three months. I needed a goal like writing two books a year, (or something like that), something I had control over.
So I started this blog. My goal is writing a story a week and posting it on Monday.
I don’t think anyone has found it yet. (Maybe I should start telling my friends and family.) But I’m not worried about visitors or statistics right now. I believe in this blog, and I believe that those who will love it will find it.
The scariest thing about being an American Idol contestant or an idealistic blogger, are those first few steps from dream into reality. In dreams we’re giants. In reality we’re human.
Geronimoooooooohhh!!!!
Watching extremely talented people following their dreams is inspiring.
The un-inspiring part is when contestants get sucked into the notion that “money and fame will save me”. I’ve noticed that the more desperate the contestant, the less likely they are to win.
While following one’s dreams requires courage and hard work, setting our sights on one outcome, expecting to be saved, often leads to failure and sometimes despair.
I would like to take a moment to share my experience with writing.
After publishing my first novel, I waited for those five-star reviews and the sales to pour in. As I waited, I became obsessed with my Amazon sales ranking, checking it several hundred times per hour, willing that number to reach the #1 spot. “Maybe today will be the day. Maybe today will be the day. Maybe I sold ten books since the last time I looked.” But with all my looking, my ranking never reached below 76,000.
After six months of nail-munching neuroticism, I had to stop. I was driving myself bonkers over things I couldn’t control.
I was a writer, I needed to spend my time writing rather than checking numbers on Amazon. Besides, the more novels I published, the more royalties would add up. So I wrote another novel. It was deep, it was heart-felt. It was written from personal experience. This would be a breakthrough book. This book would make an impact.
I submitted it to my publisher.
My publisher said it had lots of problems, and besides, they didn’t want to publish a book like that. #Ouch!
I revised. I saw the problems my publisher mentioned, but couldn’t fix them. The problems were the essence of the story. After a long cry, I chucked that novel and started another one; crushing my dreams of publishing my second novel in six months and making a fat royalty check come January.
I began my third novel. It was good. It could be “the great American novel”. It was that good. This manuscript would make my writing dreams come true.
I was weeks away from submitting it to my publisher when my house was broken into. My laptop and external hard drive were stolen along with my almost finished novel. #doubleouch!
At that point my spirit broke. I was cursed. How can a girl become a writer when all her writing attempts are crushed?
Eventually I began another novel, a zombie novel about fashion. But the further I went into this novel the less I liked it. It felt forced and formulaic. I turned it into a screenplay in an effort to save it, and the more I worked on the story, the more I hated it. I chucked the whole thing.
I descended into deep inadequacy. Was I even a good writer? Would anyone like my writing, ever? What if I went back to school and became a brain surgeon?
Eventually I picked myself up again. I spent two days reworking my resume and writing samples, and applied for jobs as a copy writer. I could learn a lot while writing eight hours a day.
As I stewed over my writing failures, I knew that whatever path I chose, I needed to stay on that path. I needed a goal and a purpose and not give up, ever. Hanging all my dreams on one idea meant that if it failed I would feel hopeless again and give up writing for the next three months. I needed a goal like writing two books a year, (or something like that), something I had control over.
So I started this blog. My goal is writing a story a week and posting it on Monday.
I don’t think anyone has found it yet. (Maybe I should start telling my friends and family.) But I’m not worried about visitors or statistics right now. I believe in this blog, and I believe that those who will love it will find it.
The scariest thing about being an American Idol contestant or an idealistic blogger, are those first few steps from dream into reality. In dreams we’re giants. In reality we’re human.
Geronimoooooooohhh!!!!