In a recent exchange of Yahoo-group emails, I mentioned my contentment at the spot I’m in with my writing. It struck me that this is very unusual, and the more I’ve thought about it, the stranger it seems — and the more wonderful.
No, I haven’t had a sale to a pro market yet. Or even a semi-pro. But I know those are coming, if I just keep up my end of the deal; if I keep writing and editing and improving my work. So, that’s okay.
It’s better than okay, even — it’s great! It means I don’t have to stress out and worry things other than my daily progress. Things that don’t help, but that niggle away at self-confidence, and that don’t allow restful sleep. “Will my next piece be as good?” “How can I top that?” “When will readers recognize my name?” “Do I want readers to recognize my name? What if they hate me?”
What am I talking about? Everyone who writes longs for that “big break,” that feeling of “now that I’m published here, I’m really a writer.” Don’t they?
Well, yes. And no. I do work and write and hope to be published someday in a well-respected market, maybe garnering some actual money for my efforts. But still, I’m loving the process, the learning and the curve. From here, I can finally see the goal, and it’s great. Glancing over my shoulder I can see how far I’ve already come along that wicked learning curve. And … it’s great here. The view stretches away in both directions, the sun shines and the rain falls so there’s neither flood nor drought.
This is my Zen moment, the sound of one hand clapping.
I struggle onwards, but I’m loving the feeling of being here, now. I hope others can, too.