EXPOSURE
"Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure." (Helen Keller)
Maybe I'm a bit old to think of being brave and bold. But as far as my writing is concerned, there are no limits--or there shouldn't be.I want the exposure it takes to grab the attention of an agent. I need the exposure of book faires to get my writing into the hands of readers. But those opportunities are not as forth coming as I suppose they should be.
Is it because I'm fooling myself with the thought that I am truly a writer? Are my expectations pie in the sky? Am I worthy of having a name readers will remember?
I need to trust myself. I should remember how successful I have been with this craft I love. I lost count at the 300 mark of short stories, personal essays, articles and poetry published. I know some people are well-known, are making a lot of money, and spend their every hour writing on a computer or in their head. I haven't done that as I have a personal life that is as important to me as my writing. I love words and making them sparkle and reach out to grab readers. But I love my hubby, too, and there is so much more I enjoy in life.
What I do, whom I love, and where I live is part of the development of my whole life. I have always had highs and lows--great moments of discovery, wonderful spells of happiness, or others of depression, and long spells of contentment--and now realize how happy I am with my life in general as it is today. I am attempting to have this same contentment out weigh the down times in my writing.
No matter how old I am, I want a well-rounded life as long as we are able to sustain it. I have new concerns about my husband who is fifteen years older than I; his age is working against him in a few areas. But he is so "up", ready to travel, willing to tag along with me to my writing functions (or go play pool while I mix with other writers and readers), and maintains his same teasing, funny self. I want us both to continue to pack "life" into our remaining years together.
I hope to pack this same life into the writing I yearn to do. Even though the economy has tanked, all but six big name publishers have drown in red ink and closed shop, and few agents want to represent anyone that doesn't have a famous name and a bizillion books sold under their belt, I am still working on a manuscript, a chapbook of poetry, several articles, and dreaming of discovering the next great idea.
Under the circumstances, does this make me brave and bold?
Maybe I'm a bit old to think of being brave and bold. But as far as my writing is concerned, there are no limits--or there shouldn't be.I want the exposure it takes to grab the attention of an agent. I need the exposure of book faires to get my writing into the hands of readers. But those opportunities are not as forth coming as I suppose they should be.
Is it because I'm fooling myself with the thought that I am truly a writer? Are my expectations pie in the sky? Am I worthy of having a name readers will remember?
I need to trust myself. I should remember how successful I have been with this craft I love. I lost count at the 300 mark of short stories, personal essays, articles and poetry published. I know some people are well-known, are making a lot of money, and spend their every hour writing on a computer or in their head. I haven't done that as I have a personal life that is as important to me as my writing. I love words and making them sparkle and reach out to grab readers. But I love my hubby, too, and there is so much more I enjoy in life.
What I do, whom I love, and where I live is part of the development of my whole life. I have always had highs and lows--great moments of discovery, wonderful spells of happiness, or others of depression, and long spells of contentment--and now realize how happy I am with my life in general as it is today. I am attempting to have this same contentment out weigh the down times in my writing.
No matter how old I am, I want a well-rounded life as long as we are able to sustain it. I have new concerns about my husband who is fifteen years older than I; his age is working against him in a few areas. But he is so "up", ready to travel, willing to tag along with me to my writing functions (or go play pool while I mix with other writers and readers), and maintains his same teasing, funny self. I want us both to continue to pack "life" into our remaining years together.
I hope to pack this same life into the writing I yearn to do. Even though the economy has tanked, all but six big name publishers have drown in red ink and closed shop, and few agents want to represent anyone that doesn't have a famous name and a bizillion books sold under their belt, I am still working on a manuscript, a chapbook of poetry, several articles, and dreaming of discovering the next great idea.
Under the circumstances, does this make me brave and bold?
Labels: discovery, encouragement, Exposure, ideas, life, Writing
posted by Barb | 6:46 PM
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