Follow by Email

Monday, May 19, 2008

How Do I Love Writing? Let Me Count The Ways

Heart in the Sky by WTL photos Creative Commons

I try not to spend too much of my day complaining about things. As a freelance writer, it's easy to get bogged down in the slow paychecks, unanswered query letters, and Methuselah-like pace of the publishing world.

But let's face it, climbing that pile of rejections and surviving to the summit can give you a spectacular view and make the barked shins and the oxygen deprivation worth it.

The BookEnds blog is inviting readers to comment on what they love about the writing biz, so it got me thinking.

If it was easy, would it be half as thrilling when an agent offers representation or you put your John Hancock on the line of a book contract? Methinks not. (Cue Eye of the Tiger music here). You are bloody but unbowed! You kept going! You deserve your success because you earned it, baby! Enough exclamation points.

And if you aren't there yet, think how great it will feel when you overcome the barricades.

So what do I love?
I love coming across an old essay I haven't seen in awhile and thinking "I wrote that? That's not half bad. Maybe I should write some more." I love seeing my byline. I love when people come up to me and say they liked me, they really, really liked me in that essay. It makes me giddy.

So what do you love about writing and getting published?


Tricia Sanders said...

And the checks that come sometimes....well, they ain't bad either.

Terreece said...

The byline, the occasional, "Oh you're a writer?" and the happy dance when you finally figure out the right wording for an article.

You're right Tricia S. the check ain't bad at all.

Catherine Rankovic said...

Knowing that I didn't just talk about writing, but that I did it!

Tricia Grissom said...

Yeah, the checks pay for stuff!

I agree about the "Oh, you're a writer?" one too. It's a nice feeling.

Ditto what Catherine said. Now I have the evidence I've taken writing seriously. I can point to actual publications. And one of my students saw one of my essays. Weird.