Rejection

It's the flip side of wanting publication, of course: rejection. I got yet another rejection letter yesterday. *sigh* (no, I'm not saying from where. That's not what's important)

What matters is how one handles it. It's far too easy to think that rejection of a story means you can't write, that the story is awful, that you just shouldn't be allowed out in public. That it's time to quit. But that's not true. It doesn't even mean the story is bad. It means that it wasn't right for that place at that time.

Doesn't mean I didn't spend last night thinking nasty things about the person that rejected me. It still hurts. But it does mean that the important thing is to move forwards and find a way to do better the next time. Every successful author has a pile of rejection letters somewhere.

It never stops hurting. But it has to also motivate me to write more, better, and try to sell more. Or I'll fall apart.

Writing and Publication

I was talking with my mother over the weekend about seeking publication. And she had a good point: pinning my hopes on what other people do with my writing is a good way to get disappointed.

That said, it seems to be the common desire of those that write, whether it be a weekend hobby or a full-time commitment, to seek publication. It gives our time and effort and sweat legitimacy, something that most hobbies/callings don't seem to require the same way. Asking someone to interact with your writing is to ask them to commit their time and their effort to your story. Publication is a way of saying to people that yes, it's a decent story and it's worth the time and effort. It's not someone pressing a handful of grubby manuscript on you. It's a published novel, glossy cover, fancy font. It's "real".

It hurts to feel so incomplete without publication. It hurts to work so hard to try and get other people to accept my writing as "real" and "good enough". But to give up would be to say that I'm not good enough, and that's simply not an option at all.

The Next Great American Novel

I've been asked sometimes why I write easy fiction instead of trying to go for something "important", something "meaningful". There's two reasons, really. One: most attempts to make something meaningful out of the box end up being awful stories. The story has to carry the idea, not the idea carrying the story. And two: I just like writing too much.

What do I mean by I just like writing too much? Great novels aren't something you can just write. To do on purpose takes time, angst, probably a sordid lifestyle involving hookers and alcohol. It doesn't involve giggling at your keyboard as you land your character in yet another scrape. It doesn't involve playing silly music while watching your baby and typing without ever looking at the screen. (why, no, that's not what I'm doing now, why do you ask? *grin*). They involve misery and Great Themes. Probably a war, or at least a war background.

It's possible to just sit down and write a Great Novel, probably. People do. But I'd much rather write things that are entertaining. If they end up having meaning for people, that's great. If they end up being assigned in an English class somewhere, I'll be happy as heck. (so many copies to sell!). But does that mean I'm going to write with that in mind? No.

Because I want people to enjoy my writing. And even more, *I* want to enjoy my writing. It's not something I'm doing to suffer for my art's sake. It's something I do because I love it and because it's what I want to do. (and now all I need is to get paid for it, and I have the perfect job!) If I was trying to write Great Fiction, I'd hate it. And what's the point of that?

Questions for Pixie

Anything you've ever wanted to know about writing? Stories? Warriors of the Sun God?

Ask me the questions here, and if I can, I'll answer them in later posts. :)

What I want

I've been having this question echo in my head the past few days. "What do you want?" And I'm having a hell of a time coming up with an answer.

Almost everything that I could want, I have. I have good friends, a loving husband, an adorable child. I have a good house and the other material things I need. (maybe not everything I want, but certainly everything I need.) But that doesn't make me happy.

I think I've come up with an answer. I want my words to be meaningful, and I want them to be remembered. I want to make the world better from having gone through it. I want to make a difference.

Words have meaning. I hope the meaning of the words I give matters.