Sweet Dependency
My blogging platform supports relationships,
self-help, and everyday incidents we chuckle over afterwards. Combining these with my writing process enlightened me.
Anyone in the writing communities
I’m connected with describe me as a critique guru. I preach how valuable my
experiences have been with allowing (and at times begging) peers to give me
honest feedback on written work. I’ve even submitted short blog posts to a writing partner before airing it to the blogosphere.
Yes. I’m insecure about my writing.
Afraid to offend, but mostly of making myself look stupid. No one wants to slip on a faux pas, especially when your sister might add it to her list of nay-nah,
nay-nah taunts.
I’ve stopped blaming difficulty
with grammar, punctuation and sentence structure on my inept education
and possible learning disability. I can read: Empowerment enough to gain what’s
lacking.
As an introvert, I gather strength
from solitude. But I'm dependent on family and friends to keep me focused when
I travel too deep into Dawndom. Likewise with writing.
Middle-age hit me in the face with
a life clarification mirror, cracking my pride. I could never have raised my
children, live healthy or write a book, without help.
Dependency is freedom to write confidently. I don’t have to get it right the first, or second, time. With assistance from reading and writer friends, I can get darn close. Enough to get globally published before really understanding what I was doing.
Dependency is freedom to write confidently. I don’t have to get it right the first, or second, time. With assistance from reading and writer friends, I can get darn close. Enough to get globally published before really understanding what I was doing.
The acknowledgement section in books affirms this dependence. The more popular a book, the longer its list
runs. BAM. Not only the publisher, editor and agent are noted, but also family,
writing and critique partners, beta readers, and those who aided in research and inspiration.
My name on acknowledgement lists circles back to me in sweet co-dependency.
It takes a village? It took
multiple communities to raise this writer. And I still refuse to play the Blame
Game. No matter how much assistance I receive, hard work and rejection is
shared by all artists, including those manipulating words, white space and
punctuation on a paper-thin canvas.
Being flawed, like a good novel
character, I reach beyond aloneness. To be happy and productive,
I incorporate others in improving myself, as well as my writing.
