***If you are looking for my normally happy self, please skip today’s post. Maybe I’ve been reading a little too much of Shell’s Pour My Heart Out stuff…well, see what you think.***
I don’t know why I’m suffering from Writer’s Block this week. I generally have plenty to say. Teach just came in from hanging out with her friends and asked if I wanted pics put on my post yet. When I told her I was having issues, she said, “Don’t write one. Nobody will care anyway!” Just shoot me now. Is this really true? Am I really only writing this for myself?
Once upon a time I thought I would grow up and become a mom and a famous writer. That’s because when I was in third grade, I wrote a 9-page story that impressed my teacher so much that I knew this writing thing was a piece of cake. I majored in English and eventually got my MA in Literature. What could be more perfect? My thesis was published in a nice hard-bound book and as a bonus I had a paper published in a scholarly magazine put out by BYU.
I just knew I was ready to take the world by storm and become the JK Rowling of my generation. So I wrote a few short pieces, some children’s books, a magazine article or two. The problem was, nobody was buying. I finally sold a story about my grandmother to the Friend, a children’s magazine put out by the LDS church. I was so excited to see it published. Every month I looked from cover to cover, hoping to see my name in print. After about five years, I stopped looking. Clearly my story had been put on a shelf somewhere and even though I received a check for a couple hundred bucks, it was never going to be published.
Frustrated, I decided that maybe it was the genre. I switched to youth fiction and completed my first novel. I even paid an agent this time! I was sure that everything would finally go my way. After two years, I gave up and released my agent. Maybe writing wasn’t really my destiny after all.
Slowly the dreams slipped away as I immersed myself in motherhood. Every once in a while I would take a chance on a contest, just to prove to myself that I still loved writing. I had a piece published in the Deseret News and another one in a Chicken Soup book. As far as I can tell, no one except my family ever read either one of them.
Now I’m trying yet another genre. Blogging has been my friend from Day 1. You have been my friend. Everyone has been so kind to me, so supportive. I love the blogging world because no one is judging me (at least not that I see) and almost everybody is polite and friendly. I hope I’m not just writing for myself…Teach, you’ve got to be wrong. Please, somebody tell me she is wrong.