Loose Change
Most of the time, I’m a reasonably sane human being. When I go to a writer’s conference, though, I am suddenly reminded of stories from the olden days. Stories about movie starlets being discovered while sipping a malt at the soda shop. I always have this absurd idea that I’ll pitch an idea to an editor and she will say, “Where have you been all my life? We want you to write a blog for our website, one feature each month for our magazine, and a series of books that will keep you busy for the next decade.”
Or something like that.
In reality, I learn a lot at these conferences. And I meet loads of great people who inspire, encourage, and challenge me. But nobody ever offers me a staring roll. Because real life doesn’t work that way.
In real life, I go home with a satchel full of writer’s guidelines, sample copies of magazines, and business cards from kind editors willing to give me a chance to prove myself.
Then, I write. I suffer. I edit. I write some more. Eventually I send off a finished piece to one of those editors. And I do it all again the next day. Writing is much less like a Hollywood wonder-story and much more like the laundry.
You just have to do it. Every day. Over and over and over. If you are really fortunate, one day an editor will write back with a positive response. Or maybe a reader will let you know something you wrote made a difference in her life.
Those moments are like finding loose change when you pull the jeans out of the dryer. And that’s enough to get you to the next day.
One pleasant difference is that the chapter I write one week won’t end up at the top of the to-do pile EVERY WEEK THEREAFTER as John’s favorite shirts and shorts do or Jake’s blanket, etc. Actually, though, neither my writing nor my laundry skills are this disciplined. Close, but not quite.
Since I’m only a wanna-be writer, and don’t have a hope of getting anything “real” published, I’m thinking this applies to prayer life too. I’ve always been afraid to pray the same things every day, because 1: I don’t want to be a pharisee and 2: I think God gets bored hearing the same things over and over. But, I think that’s ascribing human characteristics to God that don’t belong to him. SO I’ll try to do better with my laundry list of prayers each day and keep at it.
Ha, Serenity! That is so true.
And, Carol, I’d debate the “real writer” thing with you. I don’t think publication is the only measure, but that’s another story. As for prayer, remember Pastor Charlie’s brother prayed the same prayer for him over thirty years before it took. Keep it up!
I was thinking more along the lines that those who write novels think that those who write poems aren’t “real” writers (not that you think that, but some do).
Even so, it is the least likely and most disqualifed in their own eyes that seem to find themselves impacting people they could have never imagined. Consider Joseph, David, Gideon – small in their own eyes at times but still world changers. I am humbled (Kathy) by your comparison of writing to doing laundry. But like everything else we are given a gift, if only in seed form. Unlike the laundry, it will grow and reproduce who knows – 30, 60, 100x what was sown.