Do you ever sit down for a day at work and wish with everything in you that you could be doing something else? Do you ever feel like you’ve hit a long, slow uphill and even though you know you need to get to the top, you’re starting to wonder if the hill ever ends?
One of my writer friends was talking the other day about some of the ways being a writer is different from being a rock star. You know, rock stars pretty much always get private jets and enough money to buy a house or seven, and people stop them in public and ask for autographs. All of that is pretty much not a part of the writer’s life–unless you’re someone like J. K. Rowling, and let’s face it: when you’ve got more money than Britain’s royal family, it’s like being named an honorary rock star.
But one of the biggest differences is that rock stars get instant feedback on their work. Fantastic guitar solo? The crowd goes wild! Opening bars of a fan favorite song? Crazy screaming and whistling! I’ve gotta tell you, nobody over at my local coffee haunts has ever jumped up and cheered when I typed the period on a particularly fine bit of timeless prose.
And sometimes that lack really screws with my mind. Not that I want crowds of cheering people following me around, per se, but it’s amazing how a little bit of encouragement fuels my desire to jump back in and keep moving up this hill.
I woke up this morning knowing full well that I needed to write. Really, it would be ideal if I could punch out 25 pages today. And here it is, 11:30, and I’m only just now about to get started on that. And I’ve gotta say, I’m about 50 times more excited about the coming afternoon now than I was 45 minutes ago. Want to know why? Because I got an email this morning from my mentor, and in it he said this about my novel:
There have been, in fact, too many times that I’ve gotten so caught up in the story that I forget I’m supposed to be critiquing it. :)
Ha! Whee! Imagine me clapping my hands and bouncing up and down in my chair like a five-year-old who just got her very own pony. One sentence, and it changes my whole outlook on what I’m doing. All of a sudden I’m looking forward to jumping back in and laying down more of this story that has my mentor forgetting his job.
And isn’t that just the best mental place to be when you sit down to work?