Sunday, February 6, 2011


The Super Bowl is on and so I'm well, blogging! I love the commercials, but not the game. Despite having a son that plays and another that is rabid about the game and another that is somewhat rabid...I don't understand football. It's just a bunch of men in tight pants running around and bumping into eachother.

Feeling kind of groggy - apparently, I napped too long this afternoon. Paul is out working. Will went to church. He has a Super Bowl party afterwards. Ben and David are still recovering from their awful allergy attacks this past weekend. Will stayed home with them this morning and I'm here tonight. Last night I did order an air purifier for our house. There were a ton of testimonials with this one so I figured I should just do it. I'm going to keep it in the living room during the day and in their bedroom at night. I hope that helps.

Well, I got rejected again this week. RBP wasn't interested in the latest piece I sent them. Oh, that stung! But I have to keep reminding myself it isn't that my writing stunk. They said it was because they already had a similar story in the publication process. But then another part of my mind thinks, well, if my writing was all that good, they would have taken it, anyway! Bummer. So, between that and Our Iowa and my lack of success with FW lately, I've been pretty feeling low about my writing.

I did upgrade my FW membership to the top level. In doing so, I get several perks. One is an e-book that I can download that supposedly tells you everything you need to know about breaking into the free lance market. The other is a discounted subscription to Writers Digest, which I've never heard of, but apparently, is like a bible to would-be writers. So, I need to look into that. And then, lastly, one of the higher-ups in FW offers some on-line courses that are free to members at my level.

Part of me wants to not have to do any of that. I'd rather submit my work and have everyone love it and beg for more pieces from my brilliant mind! But, I don't think that's going to happen. If I want to make it as a writer - and there is no guarantee that I will, anyway - I have to become a better writer. And I have to keep submitting work. If I'm going to crumble every time I get a rejection I may as well quit now.

Of course, the other part of my brain really questions why I want to do this to myself. I mean, I'm going to be 40 next month. Almost half my life is over. Shouldn't I be able to just kind of coast for the rest of my life? Watch my children finish growing, enjoy my grandchildren, finish our house, waltz into retirement... I could be happy just doing this things and enjoying a "normal" life. But would I be content? I don't think so.

One thing that gives me a measure of comfort is knowing that this ability to write is not something I did. I was born with an attraction to words and the ability to string them together in a readable way. I was also placed into circumstances that allowed me to develop those talents (as opposed to have been born in a mud hut in the middle of Africa and never learning to read or something). It's something that's God-given. And I determined a long time ago that I would only use my abilities to bring glory to God. That doesn't necessarily mean that every single story I write is going to have a salvation message but I want to, overall, point my readers to Christ. It does mean that I'm not going to write for a secular publishing house or start cranking out Harlequin romances under an assumed name, though! Oh, I'd be so embarrassed if I did that and then someone figured out I was the author of "Passionate Embrace" or "Love's Twisted Desire"! Because I have given this talent to the Lord to do with what He wants, then I can trust that He's going to direct me into taking the needed steps to get to wherever it is I'm supposed to go with this. I'll still have to do the work, but there is a definite comfort in that. It feels like more of a joint venture, I guess.

But I don't think I'm ever going to enjoy getting those, "We're sorry, but we're going to decline on your piece..." letters!

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