The truth isn’t always pretty

Alright. I need to complain. I am sure that what I am going to rant about is what a lot of writers have felt or experienced.

I need to verbally strangle the idiots in my life because I cannot physically strangle them.

You know who I mean: The friends, family members, acquaintances and coworkers who know so much more about the writing world than you, the writer, do. 

The people who suck the joy out of obtaining your dream, and make you feel like you didn’t really accomplish it after all. The bugs in your life that need to be squashed. (I take that back, I have no grievances toward the bug population.) 

When I first began putting pen to paper, I didn’t tell anyone. There was a reason behind this. As long as no one knew it was pure, and mine. Telling others meant exposing my thoughts to criticism and explaining, “What I plan to do with these words.” Uttering the hopes and dreams of publication is like saying you want to ride a dragon. To them it only happens to special people like Stephan King or J.K. Rowling. To celebrities who want to tell their story or mysterious people living eccentric lives in far off lands. Not to you or me. I heard a lot of “Don’t quit your day job!” and “You really are better at __________ .” (Insert stupid activity in blank space.)

When I started querying my novels out, and started collecting rejection letters. These people couldn’t understand:

1. Why I was upset.

2. Why I continued to query.

Then the opinions that you never asked for start to roll in. “You should write about______. That’s what people want to read.” or “Forget your genre, try a different genre, one that sells.” At this point I honestly don’t understand how I didn’t obtain permanent scars from biting my lip so many times.

Then one glorious day… IT HAPPENS! You get THE CALL or are EMAILED THE CONTRACT that you have been waiting for! When that day arrives, you LAUGH, you CRY, you SCREAM, you LEAP!!! Then you make a few phone calls of your own, and guess what the response is?

“Really?” ***** SILENCE****** Then, “Oh. Are you rich now?”

“Oh. It’s only digital, no hardcover?”

“Are you sure this isn’t a scam?”

“So how much did you get?”

“Did you get enough to quit that day job?”

“So can your husband retire and live off of your book fortune?”

“Will I be offended by what you write? Like, am I going to look at you differently?”

The list of rude, inappropriate comments goes on and on. There are VERY FEW people who will genuinely be happy for you. I’ve learned that most people are jealous of other people not because they make it, but because they don’t have the guts to dream big for themselves. I am a dreamer, I’ve always been one. I think BIG and BOLD. I want to make this world sparkle and shine. For now I’m going to try to do it the only way I know how… one word at a time.

So dream big you beautiful writers. Dip into that vast pool of imagination that is stored up in that beautiful brain of yours.

For the world is your canvas, and it’s time to paint your masterpiece.

LOVE & LIGHT,

~Kat XoXo