I was reading the second chapter of a friend's WIP and got so caught up in the story that I wanted to cry when there was no more to read. Her writing is so good, even in rough draft stage. I then went back to work on my own WIP and wanted to cry for an entirely different reason. I started comparing my work to hers and I just knew for sure that my work comes nowhere close to measuring up. I felt like a hack; someone pretending to be a writer; someone with no real possibility of being published...ever. This made me sad because writing is one of the only dreams I have left. I know this feeling down on myself has a lot to do with some of the junk that's going on in my life right now- I'm blue, worried, scared for my son. It all adds up to a bit of depression.
So, I expressed my feelings to my critique group and was rewarded with an only partially joking threat to turn Chauncy the Chainsaw on me, as well as encouragement and love that I knew I could find there. They are such wonderful people and when I'm feeling low and bad about my abilities, I know I can always count on them to make me laugh and feel better.
Having good friends in life in general is so important but I've come to realize that if I didn't have fellow writers as friends, these fellow writers specifically, I would probably put down my pen forever and not even try to follow my dream of being a published writer. If you don't have any writer friends to cheer you on, do yourself a favor and find some. You'll be amazed by how wonderful it is to know there are people out there willing to hold a chainsaw to your back as you run toward your dreams!
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Feeling down...and being lifted up
Posted by Danielle Marie Peck at 5:27 PM
Labels: My Journey, The Real Me
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1 comments:
I'd hold a chainsaw to your back, even when you're not running towards your dreams.
BBBBBBAAAAAHHHHHAAAAAHHHHAAAAAA
Just kidding--as if Princess Jo would ever lend Chauncey out.
Stick to the grind and the writing. Without the darkness, we'd have to idea of what the light is.
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