Doggie Doo at least is picked up. Most of the time.
Sadly, no-one has realized what a wonderful writer I am. Waiting to be discovered. To be picked up.
There are 12 million people blogging via social media networks. Another 6.7 million are on blogging sites. Most bloggers are women and 2 million new blogs are created every day.
Do I really believe I can leave a footprint?
It’s all been said before; every clever line written.
But still, there I sit. Maybe today will be different. I’ll find something new. Something that has never been thought/said/written before.
“After all, no-one has lived ‘your’ life. So, your experiences are new to others,” says Encouragement.
“But,” whispers Rejection, “what makes you think anybody will be interested in your life?”
Well, thank you very much for those kind words.
The wonderful ideas and memories keep coming.
“Slow down,” Encouragement says.
“It’s all dog poop,” says Rejection.
I take a deep breath. Push her out the door.
I pick up Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. I’m reading this book for the second time. Or is it the third?
I thrive on her brand of humor, gentle sarcasm, chastening, honesty, encouragement.
I’ve lost count of the passages I’ve marked that were reality checks.
But at the end of the day I am full of hope. I remember that I’m writing because I love writing.
I love how a thought can start going one way and then make a 90 degree and head somewhere unexpected.
I love the “ah-hah” moments.
I feel in my fingertips there are others like me out there.
Then I put Anne down for the day. Open my computer and the latest e-mail from Medium. The one for Partners.
Eagerly I scroll through the headings. I don’t expect to see my name (but it would be nice) and I did pour my whole heart and soul into my latest submission.
I scroll through a second time. Nothing has changed of course but maybe I missed something.
And a third. Slower. This time I stop to read here and there if the heading and subheading grabs me.
Precious little does.
I realize that my brand/style/interest is not the flavor the current reader wants. I’m offering vanilla pudding and the readers want it shaken and stirred. A dollop of brandy added, then topped with whipped cream and cherries and chocolate sprinkles and nuts.
I’m like one of those students in Anne Lamott’s Creative Writing Class when told –
“You’ll probably never be published”
Stared at her, raised their hand and ask –
“How do I get an agent?”
So, for tonight, Rejection reigns.
Tomorrow is another day.
In the meantime, I’ll go find a few more strangers to hug.
Cyber Hugs and Blessings All.
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