I’m on deadline.
What that means is, writing is mandatory for me. I have a title for my manuscript. A word count. Most importantly, I have a due date. And yes, barring some unforseen catastrophe such as an alien invasion or Godzilla rampaging through Colorado Springs, I will meet my deadline. (I am not thinking about any real disasters that can happen to writers everywhere.)
But let me honest with you: there are days I don’t feel like writing.
I write anyway.
Read the RestIf you turn on the TV and listen for an hour, you might conclude that America has lost its freedom. With strong political views on both sides of the fence, it’s difficult to know who’s right. That’s why I try always to do two things: 1) Other than exercising my right to vote, I stay away from the political arena as much as possible. 2) I listen very intently to hear the heartbeat of America. I grew up in the south. We always sang patriotic songs. American the Beautiful, God Bless America and the Star Spangled Banner could always be heard on special occasions. Today, after having spent years on foreign soil, I understand how important those words are. Just to be able to stand in the shower and belt out […]
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No one likes rejection.
And yet, if you’re a writer, you’re going to be rejected. Let’s face it, if you’re breathing, you’re going to be rejected.
There are times when this journey along the writing road seems to be nothing more than s-t-r-i-v-i-n-g. I’ll spend an entire day — or a succession of days — trying this and that and the other thing, hoping to ensure success. Trying to figure out how to get around the “Do Not Enter” sign blocking my way.
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I was recently sent a link to a blog post with a request to read through it. As I did, I felt eerily like I was reading someone else’s blog. It sounded suspiciously like the individual had taken on the persona of someone else in my community.
I don’t think this was a ploy to steal someone else’s work. Oh no. It was much more serious than that. This writer was actually being a literary impersonator. They were writing in another person’s voice, other than their own.
I pondered their reasoning for quite some time and the more I wondered about it, I couldn’t help but ask, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” That’s the only viable explanation I could find for someone not using their own unique—and God given—literary voice.
I know there are many reasons why this happens. Most of those reasons are completely unfounded so I’d like to uproot them for you here, sort of my way of snatching your tongue back from Prissy the feline thief:
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