Writing fiction for publication is like throwing pennies in a fountain for wishes. Either one is a long shot. Often, beginning writers think that all they have to do is write it and then sell it. That’s like saying all you have to do to become a major league baseball player is to hit a ball in the backyard and boom—there you’ll be. (Should I be snide here and say you’ve forgotten a necessary component—performance-enhancing drugs? Sorry—cheap shot.)
Even knowing it’s a long shot, I still remain hopeful that I’ll be one of the lucky few, the princess whose fairy godmother shows up and restores her rightful place in the kingdom and ensures her “happily ever after.” I’m not optimistic about winning the lottery or waking up thin or a Nigerian prince giving me a large share of his wealth, but I do hold a spark of hope that someday I will see my novels on the bookshelves of Barnes and Noble and Borders.
I like January. It’s a time of establishing goals, making resolutions, mentally cleaning house. If I were ever going to quit writing, I would probably do it in January, swearing it off like chocolate milkshakes or cigarettes or a joy-sucking relationship, But this year I’m diving headfirst again, wallowing, giving myself permission to be giddily hopeful that this, this might be the year!
So, what about you? Do you feel the need to do some mental housecleaning, to throw out the junk that weighs you down or holds you back? Is it a time of re-defining yourself? Does January fill you with hope?
