Winter Blues

Sleet, snow, and nothing but cloudy skies. As I sit here on my couch in the middle of the night, my insomnia has me listening to the sleet tapping against the window. What is it about winter that keeps me from wanting to write? Do I have a seasonal disorder? No, I did just have back surgery though. So that's a good enough excuse I guess. As I recline comfortably on the couch, laptop propped up by my knees, I am also watching a marathon of Pillars of the Earth. This is a great series. No, I haven't read the book. I prefer to watch instead of laboriously muddle through the pages. My eyes tend to tire out quickly, which is bothersome to me. I wish I could read more prolifically, but I have to reserve my reading habits for more astute educational materials and edit other people's writing. Reading for pleasure is simply difficult for me. I do a lot of reading and editing of other writer friends. Some of it's pretty good, but I find most people who ask for my help do not know the craft nearly as well. And I do not consider myself that good of writer either. I've just been doing it a bit longer and have paid attention to developing skills more than they. In that respect, I tend to get the writer blues. I find it discouraging to read junk and then struggle to find the words on how to tell my friend they write utter junk without hurting their feelings. That is just impossible to do. In such cases, I simply don't say. If they insist, I attempt to be kind in my choice of words. However, this isn't direct enough for most folks who simply don't get my round about way of thinking. Yet if I dare be too direct, I come across harsh and cruel. It's a catch 22 of sorts. How to say it without really saying it, but saying it clearly enough so they can benefit from my gentle critique. Some people have a thicker skin than others, but many newbies are thin to the core. I was there once myself. I understand this your baby. But this baby needs to learn to crawl and then walk and then eventually start to run, yet remain within a safe distance of a parent's watchful eye. The writer must be willing to submit to a mentor's watchful critique in order to learn the craft and write well. Here is my angst. Writers who do not care to learn and hone technique and skill. They only want to see their god awful words in print. They consider themselves God's gift to the world and the words of course were given by Him anyway so why touch a thing. They are perfect just the way they are written. And this my friends is exactly why many writers stop writing. They can't take the rejection. They won't do the work. Instead they rush to write their inspired words in a first draft and throw it out on the internet for the world to see. Like what I'm doing now. Normally I'd never bear my soul in such a raw way. Some may prefer this style better. I hope it serves a purpose. 

Winter is lonely and beautiful at the same time. Sometimes it's ugly and then all together lovely, just like writing. In the loneliness, we find our true voice for writing. In the despair of rejection, we see the ugly for what it is and, if we persevere, we learn how to write better until the voice is clearly heard. 

Just when my discouragement is about to get the best of me, out of the blue comes a contract offer for a sequel to Candy Moon. This gave me a much-needed shot in the arm, the B12 of confidence I needed to keep going. If you are discouraged with your writing today, I pray you will find encouragement and the fortitude to keep going. Perseverance is a gift of the Holy Spirit. I pray you will receive this gift. 

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