I've been thinking about amount of sheer chutzpah being a writer requires a lot lately.
First, in my Loft class, I was having a chat (I'm teaching on-line this year, which probably deserves a post all its own,) and one of the students was talking about how difficult it is to work up the courage to send stories to magazines. I get this. In fact, this is one of the reasons I have offered to do this part of the job for several members of the writers' group. Yet, I've never had a lot of trouble with it myself. I have what my martial arts instructors call an indomitable spirit. I don't believe I'm awesome so much as I believe that you can't win if you don't play. I'm always willing to wade in and get knocked out. Then, I get up and do it again. I get pounded a lot, but I've got a smile on my face because, to me, this is part of what it means to be a writer. Being engaged in the business, even if it bloodies your lip.
And it will.
Because, even AFTER you've punched your way over the transom and into publication, you still get really nasty reviews. Even ten years after a book comes out, you might stumble across something that points out all the weaknesses you always secretly knew you had.
The hardest is part of being a writer is how utterly vulnerable you have to be willing to be while also maintaining a ridiculously thick skin. It's a really strange requirement, but I think one of the ones we really have to develop if we want to survive.
Once more into the breech! Let us ride out to meet them!