On the importance of Support

Sometimes, when I sit down to write for another day, I reflect on the eighteen-year-old kid that I once was. A kid that had the wild idea that he should write a novel.

That novel (a space adventure called, Alone in the Darkness) never saw the light of day. In fact, only two people on the planet ever read it.

It was a bad book. Clearly an amateur attempt by a young man who didn't know any better. The great part about it though, was that I didn't know it sucked until about six years later when I pulled it out of a drawer and read it again.

I had completed five other novels in that period of time--none of them ever to be published--and I understood a lot more about the craft than I did when I sat down to write that first book.

But I will always love Alone in the Darkness, because it was the first. It was the book that ushered me into the hobby that would eventually become my profession.

As I continued to write short-stories and novels I began to show them to more and more people. I had grown confident that I wouldn't be completely humiliated. For the most part I was right.

Not all the comments were glowing, but almost all of them were helpful and they all spurred me on to keep writing even while the rejections from publishers piled up in my email inbox.

Then I met the woman who I will spend the rest of my life with. My beautiful wife, Carol.

Support is wonderful and great when it comes from interested family and friends, but it takes on a whole new meaning when it comes from the person who shares the house with you.

My wife helped me make the decision to begin writing full-time and see if I could make something of myself on the digital shelves.

She never once complained, she never once worried about money, she never once questioned any aspect of the decision. She was a constant source of love and support. She believed in me.

For a struggling artist, that belief means more than all the money in the world.

I know that some of the people who read my early works were being nice. They didn't tell me that the books weren't very good, because they were trying to spare my feelings. I can't thank them enough for sparing my feelings. If they had decided to crush me with brutal honesty I might have given up.

By the time Carol and I were married I had become a much better writer. I had read enough and written enough to be publishable.

Now, I suppose the jury is still out on how good of a writer I have become. I know that I am no longer embarrassed about my writing and that's a start.

I also know that my wife believed in me enough to take a giant leap of faith.

If you have that in your own life, cherish it. Turn to that person who supports you right now and let them know how much they mean to you.

Not everyone has that, you know. We are the lucky ones. We should never forget it.