Patience

I suppose I'm supposed to be learning patience. Never mind. I am keeping positive. That's all there is to it.

Going out for breakfast now and bringing two MSs from my writers' group. They are last month's submissions. I wasn't able to make that meeting. I vowed if I joined a group that I would critique the things sent to me. I didn't receive any for this month. Makes my task easier.

I'm also printing out the last two chapters of Blue. Another vow (which I've given before - drat it all) - finish chapter thirty-six.

I'm off today, so I have the chance. The house is fairly clean. The laundry is done (except for towels) and I have no excuses left. *g*

Didn't meet with my writing buddy this week and that makes me sad. We do have such good times together. Hopefully next week.

Out of town guests will be staying Monday night. They were here last Saturday night and we had a great time watching the Olympics. The wife is a writer and we chatted about writing, but not enough. I'm gonna make her sit down and giggle with me.

I sent off my first twelve pages of 'Blue' for the SCBWI conference. *fingers crossed*

Life is full of giggles.

Publishing

I was reading an article about blogging and how I should be giving advise and such. One of the hints was to give advise about publishing.

Well --- I can't. I can't give advise PERIOD. I don't like giving advise. Who am I, I wonder. Even if I were published, I don't think I'd be giving advise. 

Showing(*g* not telling) would be more like it. I share my own experiences. If my readers glean advise or wisdom *g* from anything I've written (or will write) then I am happy. I'd like to think I'm helping other writers as I help myself. I guess it's kind of like talking to myself. 'Ok. You can do it. Yep. This is what you should write next. Whoa. Why are you making the character do that.' Things like that.

As I watch the Olympics and see how the athletes struggle to win, place, or show, and then see the struggle they've had just getting to the Olympics... well, that's what I'm trying to do with this blog. Showing my struggle in the hopes that it will help me to succeed. But also help you.

I'm hoping that my struggles (though not the same as my readers) will at least bear fruit in helping you as we go along on this incredible journey of writing. 

We won't have the same experiences or feelings or whatever, but someday, we'll hold a book in our hands (yes, I'm quite confident) and the book will have my/your name on it.

I can see it now. by Sharron Walsh. Whoo hoo!

Motivators tell people to 'see' their goal. I'm seeing mine. Why don't you try it, too? Can't wait to 'see' your book on the bookshelf.

Life is incredible.

Shaking In My Boots

I'm doing it again. I must be a glutton for punishment.

The North Ohio SCBWI conference is coming up in September. As I posted previously, I signed up for a critique of 'Blue.' 

I've spent the last two days poring over the twelve pages that I'll be sending. Criteria dictates sending only twelve pages, so I've decided not to put in a summary. It's not required. It might be a mistake not to send one, but there you are.

I have heard, and believe it, that a good editor or publisher can tell within the first two or three paragraphs if a story is well written and will bring in readers. Technically, that means all a conference could require is the first page of my story. Yikes! That's daunting.

My twelve pages are done. I just sent them out to my editor for a final review. Tomorrow, I'll ship the two copies via FedEx to the conference people.

Now - my stomach is roiling and I feel sick. Unbelievable. I feel like I'm offering myself up as sacrifice to the gods. Why? I have no clue.

So here I sit, shaking in my boots, and wondering why on earth I would put myself through something like this. And yet, I write for the fun of the story and for the fun of sharing it with others. This is the only way I can share it - by having it published, either traditionally or via the Internet. Whichever way, it's got to be done if I am to plunge forward and continue to grow.

Life is exhausting. 

Be Myself

I finally have caught up with all the Olympic tapings I'd done. Time for a  breather and a moment here. I truly do not mean to leave my dear followers in the lurch, but the Olympics occur only once every four years.  I love every event. I found some sports I'd never heard of. Rules have changed on other sports. Life is so incredibly interesting in the world of sport and human behavior and tenacity and *happy sigh*


I do want to share this with you. It's not sports related. I wrote a story and received this comment from a reader.  "What a story. This is brilliant, and unfortunately puts most of my efforts far to shame on characterization."


I remember having the same feelings when I first started writing. It seemed, at the time, that everything I wrote could not hold a candle to the books and stories I was reading. 


Thankfully, a friend told me that I had to be myself. I bless the day. 


Life would be horribly boring if we all felt, said, thought the same thing. The same is true with writing. Horrible boringness would exude from pages. Not a pretty sight.


I write in the style my Muse tells me to. She knows what she's doing. I can accept that style and even blush in a bit of humble pride as a chapter is completed and rings true and good and fun and suspenseful and wondrous.


My editor called the other night and we discussed the new portion to chapter 32. She liked it buts wants to see the whole thing. I'm sending it tonight. 


I've got to really word on my MS in the next two days. It must be at the critiquer's by the tenth if I'm going to receive a critique at the SCBWI conference. Thankfully, it's only twelve pages and I've written those again and again and again. I think they are finished. *yeah* *sure*


Life is wondrous. 


PS - I will try not to leave you again for such an extended period.