Hurt me. It turns me on.
Ha! I figured that might get you reading.
We're having some fun this week, as is our wont, and mixing things up here at the blog. So if you expected one of Anton's sharp, witty posts today? You're out of luck. You get me instead. You expected me tomorrow? Nope! Someone else will be here tomorrow. Or maybe I will again. Maybe Anton will show up here later. Who knows? We're CRA-ZEE, I tell you!!
I've been thinking a lot about what makes us writers. What is it about us that makes us deliberately set ourselves up for rejection and pain on a regular basis? First there's all those agents waiting to reject us. Then publishers. And if we finally manage to get both an agent and a publisher, there's millions of readers out there to reject us.
So why do we do it? Mommy issues? Ego? Masochistic tendencies? All of the above?
I write because it's all I ever really wanted to do. Oh, sure, if I wasn't doing it I would probably have found something else. I thought seriously about nursing for quite some time (my Mommy is an E/R nurse.) Or teaching. Honestly, before I started seriously writing again five years ago I was perfectly content simply being a stay-home Mom.
So why, then? Why do we put ourselves through this?
Because it's fun. Writing is the most fun you can have alone (get your minds out of the gutter.) Really. I can have a good time just about anywhere, but writing is different. Special. If I didn't have a family I think I would happily spend ten hours out of every twenty-four in front of the computer, and consider myself lucky for it.
But man. Rejection hurts. No matter how many times you tell yourself nobody is rejecting you personally, that it's not personal, it's business, we still feel just like Tessio about to get in that car. Like our lives are about to end. Like even though we think our book is pretty good, we're obviously stupid, because it sucks. And if the best we can do is write a sucky little book that nobody wants, we might as well just hang it up now. What's the matter with us? Why did we think we could do this?
But we keep doing it. Because it's a dream, because we want to fight for it and work for it. We keep trying and trying, knowing in our heart of hearts that one day it will happen, if we just try harder. Learn more. Spend more time.
And for a lot of us, it does. And that's enough.
Is a desire to get (figuratively) slapped around a little implicit in every writer? What do you guys think? Why do you keep writing?
(Oh, and I forgot. The Stacia Kane website is now up and running, so go take a look. I even made some little web icons for y'all to use. So go check it out. Tell me how much you hate it. Really...I kind of like it when you do.)
We're having some fun this week, as is our wont, and mixing things up here at the blog. So if you expected one of Anton's sharp, witty posts today? You're out of luck. You get me instead. You expected me tomorrow? Nope! Someone else will be here tomorrow. Or maybe I will again. Maybe Anton will show up here later. Who knows? We're CRA-ZEE, I tell you!!
I've been thinking a lot about what makes us writers. What is it about us that makes us deliberately set ourselves up for rejection and pain on a regular basis? First there's all those agents waiting to reject us. Then publishers. And if we finally manage to get both an agent and a publisher, there's millions of readers out there to reject us.
So why do we do it? Mommy issues? Ego? Masochistic tendencies? All of the above?
I write because it's all I ever really wanted to do. Oh, sure, if I wasn't doing it I would probably have found something else. I thought seriously about nursing for quite some time (my Mommy is an E/R nurse.) Or teaching. Honestly, before I started seriously writing again five years ago I was perfectly content simply being a stay-home Mom.
So why, then? Why do we put ourselves through this?
Because it's fun. Writing is the most fun you can have alone (get your minds out of the gutter.) Really. I can have a good time just about anywhere, but writing is different. Special. If I didn't have a family I think I would happily spend ten hours out of every twenty-four in front of the computer, and consider myself lucky for it.
But man. Rejection hurts. No matter how many times you tell yourself nobody is rejecting you personally, that it's not personal, it's business, we still feel just like Tessio about to get in that car. Like our lives are about to end. Like even though we think our book is pretty good, we're obviously stupid, because it sucks. And if the best we can do is write a sucky little book that nobody wants, we might as well just hang it up now. What's the matter with us? Why did we think we could do this?
But we keep doing it. Because it's a dream, because we want to fight for it and work for it. We keep trying and trying, knowing in our heart of hearts that one day it will happen, if we just try harder. Learn more. Spend more time.
And for a lot of us, it does. And that's enough.
Is a desire to get (figuratively) slapped around a little implicit in every writer? What do you guys think? Why do you keep writing?
(Oh, and I forgot. The Stacia Kane website is now up and running, so go take a look. I even made some little web icons for y'all to use. So go check it out. Tell me how much you hate it. Really...I kind of like it when you do.)
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