Writing is my life. My drive. I sit down and the stories pour out of my mind. Sometimes so fast my hand can’t keep up. If life—kids and laundry—didn’t bombard me, I could write a book a month. Well, maybe a month and a half.
There are times though, when trying to get published is overwhelming. I realized early in my writing journey that editors and agents are human with inhuman jobs. They have good and bad days and aren’t perfect. Unfortunately, because of the publishing industry’s demands, the author is expected to be faultless.
As authors, we dream of incredible stories and bring them to life for the reader. Mystery, inspirational, or the darker, grittier paranormal/urban fantasy all drive the reader’s imaginations and ultimately push them to higher goals. The human being strives for something more, something better. New job, better lifestyle, and even love keep the readers’ hope alive. Books are the catalyst for many things. And, for the authors they create an outlet for creativity, a way to connect with readers, and a legacy.
Writing keeps me going. Keeps me sane. I conform daily to those who’ve traveled this road before me. I absorb their advice, their techniques, and their aspirations. I never wonder if I will be published, only when.