Thinking of quitting? Think again. I’ve often wondered why I was cursed/blessed with the obsession of storytelling. Why can’t I just go to a cocktail party or a wedding or the pawn shop like a “normal” person? Why am I endlessly thinking about stories, those I’ve written and the ones I’ve read? What is the point of such longing anyway? The truth is I don’t know. What I do know is this obsession has only intensified with age.
When we first moved into our current home, I stuck this magnet to the washing machine. Probably because the laundry was daunting back then. Now my two daughters who are still at home (some of the time) do their own laundry, as does my husband. Still, I keep this magnet because when I’m looking for a sign, here it is. If you’re looking for a sign, here it is.
“Never, never, never give up.” Cliché? Yeah, I suppose. But somebody will get the higher grade or win the contest or publish the book or sign a record deal. Somebody will get the job or the promotion or reach a million followers on Twitter. The question is this: Why not you?
Owning, announcing, broadcasting, embracing the fact that you are trying to achieve this thing is scary because your little secret is out. The world knows what you’re up to, and the powers that be may not give it to you. They may put up roadblocks. People might laugh or roll their eyes. Folks may say you aren’t a serious person. Even worse, maybe you aren’t young enough, old enough, smart enough, good enough.
It is quite possible the universe might not give us what we want. In all my years of writing, I’ve learned this: I’m a writer. Yes, I’ve published three novels, but that is not what makes me a writer. I’ve written so many more unpublished novels. I have failed at publishing again and again, but I have not failed at being a writer. In fact, I would argue I’m a highly successful writer because in the midst of failing at publishing, I’ve still been writing. And it feels better, wiser, stronger, truer to keep going because that’s who I am and what I do.
If today was the day you went looking for a sign, it’s here, stuck to my washing machine, next to some wet bathing suits.
Now go do whatever it is you’re dreaming of and tell at least one person what you’re up to. If they roll their eyes or scoff or list countless reasons why you’re likely to fail, think of it as fuel for your determined tank and just keep swimming.