Too much time at the dentist

I composed this long blog post comparing writing to dentistry. I had all these great metaphors and detailed scenarios. It was brilliant.

Okay. It was only brilliant for the horrendous four hours I spent in the dentist's office yesterday. WITHOUT a book to read or a notebook to write in. If I couldn't entertain myself with my imagination, my head would have imploded. I won't torture you with my Writing Is Like Dentistry post. It wasn't brilliant at all.

I had one of those "I'm a horrible writer and I'll never amount to anything so why do I bother" days yesterday. I spent too much dark time in my head at the dentist. I came home to two rejections. One for a short story and the other from an agent. I didn't get any time to write, because my son already had his nap by the time I got home. I started to read Patrick Rothfuss' newest novel last night, but I couldn't get into it. That's a crime in itself. I can safely use the word brilliant for him.

I know other writers have these days, too. Yet, in that moment, you feel like you're the only one.

My writing is terrible. No one will ever want to publish me. I should give up and spend my precious little free time knitting or gardening.

Alright. I don't have the coordination to knit and I burn after five minutes in the sun.

It's hard to take the rejections at times. It's hard when you've had something you love rejected over and over again. It breaks my heart. The only thing you can do is learn from it and keep trying or start something new.

I've done a lot of rethinking this year about what I write, how I write and how I market myself. I've changed a lot of things and they're more true to myself. I practice my craft and my writing has improved. I'm constantly working to improve myself. I've always loved writing and what I write, but I didn't want to be seen as one of those women who write romance novels. (The prejudice I've experienced by some writers when they find out I write romance - any kind of romance - is cruel. That could be a whole blog post itself.) I wanted to be seen as the next Stephen King. It would be nice to have the success of King, but no matter how much I admire him, I will never be like him. I am one of those women who write romance. They're dark and gritty, but they're still romance novels. Facing this truth has allowed me to better market myself and become more comfortable being open about what I write.

I'll take the dark days and my newly crowned tooth and carry on. I'll keep writing until the day I die. I'll write horror, science-fiction and fantasy. I'll write romance. I'll keep writing even if no one reads what I write. It's what I do. It's what I need to do. It's who I am.