I have a confession to make: I don't take a lot of things seriously.
As a stay-at-home-mom, this works in my favor. It's much easier to relate to a 5 and a 2 year old that way. Even in my adult-life, I take time to understand the gravity of a situation just so I know how to mock it. So, when I went to the Decatur Book Festival two weekends ago (read about it here!) I was totally psyched for the fun. What could be better than books, people who WRITE books, and people who READ books all in one place? (Answer? Nothing.)
I was not, however, prepared to be hit in the face with a desire to be *gulp* serious about writing books as a business. (See what I did there? *snort*) I've been writing for a while now, but I try not to think about the whole 'what happens next' part. I mean, sure, I know that I'm writing an amazingly incredible story that you all will be just IN LOVE WITH the moment it's published. Some part of me has kinda sat back and said "And if you never finish, it's no big deal. You're just doing this for you." See that? I was giving myself an out. I wasn't SERIOUS about it.
But then I met real writers and saw how much they LOVED it. And I thought about how much I loved it. And about how much I wanted to be ONE of them. Other people in my life could see this desire even more clearly than I could. Cheryl (one of my very best friends and prereaders/cheerleaders) gave me the 2011 Guide To Literary Agents for my birthday because she believes I'll really do it. My husband wrote, in my birthday card, how proud he is of me and how he truly believes I'll accomplish my goal of being published. If they believe in me, shouldn't I actually believe in myself?
So, I'm headed to the Auburn Writer's Conference next month. It's about time I start taking this whole 'writing' thing seriously. I even ordered business cards:
Okay, so there's a limit to the amount of serious I can handle. *wink*
1 week ago