My manuscript is with an editor who hasn’t made a peep for several weeks. She is a friend of my mentor’s so he roped her in to take a look at my novel. Not a peep from her. Maybe she hates it. Maybe it sucks to high heaven and hell. Maybe I’m not a writer.
Since I can’t work on my novel, I’ve been pulling short stories out of my files and finishing them. A strange thing happened on the way to actually liking a writing task. Yes, I’ve changed from moaning and weeping at the difficulties to enjoying rewrites, critiques and having my work published. This feeling didn’t blossom over the years. It was a result of finally getting something published followed by my mean mentor forcing me to write for 2 1/2 weeks until I almost died, *yes, drama* I will write a blog on that experience so you can weep along with me. 😦
But still, there is a lingering voice in my head that creeps into my bliss and whispers, ‘Your writing sucks.’
Whatever. Today, I shall write.