My writing life is shifting from a fun way to spend some time to pinpointing focus to the best book only I can write. It means stacking hours upon hours, to the exclusion of many things. It means to believe so fully there is nothing else I’d rather do. It means to turn off the voices (all the voices) that say it will never be published, or when can I read it, or good luck with that. And it means to say out loud, I have written a book (make that two and counting). It’s about connecting with writers who understand and know the grind. It is about producing a book that others will love reading. It is about beginning again when that goal is met.
It is not about scoring an amazing high-dollar publishing deal. But when one of us in this amazing, growing, supportive community crosses that threshold, it is about the biggest celebration we can throw, gathering around to support and cheer. It is happening! First and foremost, my life is about the writing; the daily practice of putting black strokes on a white page because dang it, I have something to say.
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