I know that you have been waiting,
with bated breath for my return. ;)
(this is a long post,
bear with me!)
The conference was amazing!!
My hopes were to do some networking--
it was an opportunity to meet publishers, editors, and of course writers.
I was rewarded with so much more.
First, I was spiritually renewed,
with the times of worship.
Second, I was refreshed creatively,
so that when I came home I was inspired to write.
Thirdly, I was challenged intellectually,
through the many workshops.
But the best gift of all,
was that on the first day I had a critique meeting,
with a publisher.
He had looked at the first chapter of my work,
and thought that I was close to the mark.
After, pointing out ways to tweak my work,
once I had finished editing my work,
that he would like to see the first portion.
I was exhilarated!!
The next day I met another author to assess my work,
who was also impressed.
I was on cloud nine...
even if neither ends up taking my work,
it is affirming to know that I am going in the right direction.
The final day I met with another publisher,
(who does not publish fantasy,
rather children and YA fiction/nonfiction).
When she heard my idea,
she was intrigued enough to ask for the first chapters,
stating that she might know someone who would be interested in it.
I was on cloud nine. :)
But as the conference wore on,
another feeling gnawed at my belly.
What if I don't live up to their expectations?
What if I can't apply their suggestions?
They think I a writer,
but really I am a fraud.
Words come out on the page,
but I don't actually craft them.
I'm fooling everyone...
I took today to recoup from the information overload.
Tempted to start in on some rewrites,
but leaving it alone.
I checked the critique site I use,
Scribophile, later this afternoon.
Where I got a very thorough and rigorous crit of one of my first chapters,
which seemed to bring me to another low.
Why is it that us authors beat ourselves up in this manner?
It is like a roller coaster of random emotions.
But in my mind I know I cannot act on these destructive thoughts alone.
I believe in my heart that this is what I'm called to do.
...a good night sleep and some prayer,
should make this world seem a little brighter.
Back to the page and the pen.
Back to sifting through words.
Back to me.
(I promise I won't be as depressing!!)
A big thank you, thank you, thank you,
to those who have supported, critiqued, and listened to my random rants.
I couldn't have gotten as far as I have without you. :)
Thanks for believing in me,
even when my own belief falters.
as I finish writing these words I feel better.
Like having a cup of tea with a good friend.