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.