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Goals Are Not Just For Soccer Balls

The FIFA soccer championship has been over now for weeks and yet I’m still pondering something. Would I be better at setting and working toward my goals if I had a stadium filled with people to cheer me on?

Writing is such a solitary process. We sit for hours at our computers and type out our stories. Sometimes I just sit while I contemplate a plot turn or character (my husband calls this napping, I prefer Ann Lamont’s term “wool gathering.”) But it’s not like we have a crowd of people gathered around us and urging us on to finish the next chapter.

It seems like whenever I do set a goal  I become my own worst enemy. I plan on writing 5 pages a day and somehow I hit a wall at 4. Try as I might, everything I write on the fifth page is worthless drivel. Perhaps if I hired a rabid “writing” fan I could manage a game saving head shot at the final buzzer and get that last page done, shimmering with symbolism and hyperbole.  The critics would go wild and my readers would weep with joy.

But alas, it’s not to be. I must play this writing game alone. I must dodge the opponents of writer’s block and laundry and cross that finish line to my own applause.

Maybe I’ll buy a vuvuzela  just to cheer myself on…

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My First Book

I received an e-mail the other day that 101 Facets of Faith is now available on Amazon.com. My first book!

Okay, so it’s not all mine. It’s actually a compilation of devotions written by several authors. But my name is on it. Thoughts of mine are written on the pages for everyone to read.

Wow.

What an incredibly frightening and humbling thought.

I’ve always written. Since childhood I’ve kept journals and notebooks of random thoughts, poems, stories and prayers. For the past seven years I’ve worked at creating fictional stories that I hope to someday have published.

And yet, it’s fitting that this first book should be a non-fiction one that illustrates our difficulties with faith. God is, after all, the one who inspires my writing. I’m thankful that this first offering of the gifts He’s entrusted me with is one that clearly gives Him glory.

Yes, my heart is in fiction. Creating characters who learn and grow in faith. But I will take every opportunity to tell people about my own struggles while I learn and grow in my own walk with God. After all, that is the story that ulitmately matters the most.

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Rejection is Not An Excuse

I’d been waiting several months to hear news about a short story I’d written back in January. I submitted it in February and the magazine said to give them up to six months to respond before re-submitting. I had just e-mailed a friend and said I planned on trying again once the calendar page turned to August when lo and behold in the mailbox today came the note:

Dear Writer, Thanks but no thanks. Okay, so they really weren’t that blunt, but you get the idea.

For a moment I let myself be sucker punched. I stared at the note in utter defeat. Then I went down to my computer and whined on FaceBook. There’s always someone on-line to commiserate with, to buck you up when you’re feeling down.

And now, in the words of that famous philosopher Monty Python, “I’m not dead yet! I’m feeling much better.” Rejection used to be an excuse for me to wallow in self-pity for days. Not anymore. Now I use it as a tool. A tool to motivate me to work harder. No longer a hammer to pound me into the ground, rejection is sandpaper. It may be rough and hurt a little, but ultimately it will smooth out my writing making it a thing of beauty.

And so, in the words of another great philosopher, “Once more unto the breach, dear friend, once more!” I’m off to my lap top and ready to try again!