My manuscript assessment lay in wait for me when I checked my email last night. It was one of those moments. You know the ones, the weigh in at weight-watchers, the reveal at the hairdressers. You want to look but you're afraid what you'll find.
One click and I was in. I did the scan through, looking to pick out keywords like brilliant, book deal, prize-winning. Strangely none of these appeared. Then I went back, slowed down, did a more thorough search for said words. Again no fireworks, no six figure offers, no singing angels. By this time my ego had awoken and the familiar patter was filling up my head - I told you so, What were you thinking, and my personal favourite, Are you delusion what did you think was going to happen?
Yes I was hoping for a fantastic review of my first book. Hell I've been working on this story for what feels like the last fifty years. Okay that maybe dog years or I may be exaggerating slightly in an attempt to curry sympathy. Either way I wanted that assessor to be blown away and she simply wasn't.
Don't get me wrong she did a fantastic job. The job she was hired to do, to find the holes in my story, pick out the grammar and spelling issues and give me a professional opinion. But in my heart of hearts (the one I'm mending with chocolate as we speak) I wanted so much more, I wanted her to love it. But also a part of me wanted to be let off the hook. I wanted her to say, 'Hey lady your a little long in the tooth and really your work sucks so give it up walk away with some dignity.'
She gave me neither. So I guess I'm going to have to work harder, stop whining and toughen up. I'm going to have to sharpen the pencils, read more books, write more often and believe in myself more fully.
As much as writing drives me nuts the need to do it is too strong to walk away from. Oh sure I can procrastinate like a professional, I can avoid the page like its got herpes but that doesn't stop them. The parade of people who reside in my head. The strong willed characters that appear at inappropriate moments, the lines of prose that arrive at 3am and disappear at 6am. No this is not something I can walk away from, there is a writer in me, an angst ridden slightly neurotic writer who wants to love her words if she can only find the courage to commit her soul.One click and I was in. I did the scan through, looking to pick out keywords like brilliant, book deal, prize-winning. Strangely none of these appeared. Then I went back, slowed down, did a more thorough search for said words. Again no fireworks, no six figure offers, no singing angels. By this time my ego had awoken and the familiar patter was filling up my head - I told you so, What were you thinking, and my personal favourite, Are you delusion what did you think was going to happen?
Yes I was hoping for a fantastic review of my first book. Hell I've been working on this story for what feels like the last fifty years. Okay that maybe dog years or I may be exaggerating slightly in an attempt to curry sympathy. Either way I wanted that assessor to be blown away and she simply wasn't.
Don't get me wrong she did a fantastic job. The job she was hired to do, to find the holes in my story, pick out the grammar and spelling issues and give me a professional opinion. But in my heart of hearts (the one I'm mending with chocolate as we speak) I wanted so much more, I wanted her to love it. But also a part of me wanted to be let off the hook. I wanted her to say, 'Hey lady your a little long in the tooth and really your work sucks so give it up walk away with some dignity.'
She gave me neither. So I guess I'm going to have to work harder, stop whining and toughen up. I'm going to have to sharpen the pencils, read more books, write more often and believe in myself more fully.
So I guess this means we're still on safari.
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