
The last few days I’ve been thinking about my passion of writing. I have been writing since I was in high school when Lyndon Baines Johnson was president of the United States. I had my first professional writing sale in 1981. I’ve been writing a long time. Even though I’ve never published a book I have published a short story, poetry, and dozens of non-fiction articles. I have dozens of paid writing credits. I am a writer. I even have a short story that will be in next Tuesday’s issue of Bewildering Stories.
I remind myself of the these credits where I don’t let an agent, editor, publisher, writing group or friend get me down. I am not the reason they are having a bad day, don’t need what I wrote, or don’t like what I am writing. They are not the reason my writing sucks, story isn’t interesting or good enough. Sometimes I need to man up, work harder, and not be so tough on myself. Only my mother will say she likes everything I write and she has to because she’s my mother.I have to remind myself that sometimes the timing is off, sometimes the market isn’t right, sometimes ….
I need to do what I always do when rejected … cry, scream, think how dumb they are … take a deep breath and get back to reality. Continue writing and continue submitting … just maybe the next one will need what I’m writing, won’t have a client they represent who has written something similar and just maybe my writing will continue getting better.
I write because I am a writer. Writing is what we do.
