There have been times, many times actually, where I’ve doubted my ability to make it in the writing industry–to put something to paper that will resonate with others and cause them think and feel something new.
The truth is, although I’ve been writing since I was a young girl; journalling, crafting stories from any experience and writing letters, essays, scientific articles and recording medical records–I hold no degree in creative writing.
Any yet, there are so many things I have mastered in my life, that I learned with my own two hands–not from school.
I learned compassion for animals by touching with kindness and observing their response. My writing highlights the special place animals hold in our hearts.
Without a day spent in formal training, I’ve planted, fertilized and dead headed–developing a sincere appreciation for nature and conservation.
I’m a self-taught gardener.
There isn’t anything better than your own fresh tomatoes, hot from the sun, cut up with salt and pepper.
Gardening did teach me a great deal though. It taught me how to persevere, to work hard and to try new things. All good lessons for novel writing.
Because novel writing isn’t easy.
Novel writing is hard work.
You need to get some dirt under your nails and it’s garenteed you will break a few.
To do it well, it’s going to hurt. It will hurt to put your words out there–to share your deepest, inner most fears.
It will make you bleed.
Which will make your writing better.
The cuts and bruises will heal.
Sometimes there will be scars.
My scars, not surprisingly, come in the shape of animal nails and teeth… but that doesn’t mean I don’t have writer scars.
They come in the form of… fear of failure, fear that I’ll never find a publisher, fear that I’ll never be good enough.
The claws of every query rejection have left deep impressions on my confidence.
But scars fade.
In time, they remind, but don’t haunt.
What I’ve learned, is that just as my scars are unique, my story is mine alone. No one, no matter how skilled, how gifted and no matter how much formal training they have received, can tell my story.
Because that is what it is–my story.
I am the ONLY one who can tell my story.
You are the only one who can tell your story.
So write it.
The only way we will get words onto the page is by putting them there. My words. Your words. We don’t need school to live and I don’t need school to share what I’ve learned.
There are always courses, critique partners, conferences, editors for hire and just as I’ve learned how to do so many things in my life, I can do this writing thing,
because…
These hands were made for writing.
