How the writing goes

Writer-once-upon-a-time-1024x576Good morning. I hope everyone is doing well. I currently have a double ear infection so I am a little out of it. With this being the week I work my night job, I wasn’t very with it to begin with.

The good news is that I finally recovered from the horrendous writing slump I’ve been in. There for awhile I thought about tossing in the pen for good. I’ve written two poems and a non fiction essay in the past two days. I shared one of the poems with friends and they seem to like it. The other one was scribbled by pencil in my writing journal. It has only been viewed by my mom.

She liked it, but she’s my mom. She will tell me if she doesn’t like a story or a book I am working on but poems are something else. I don’t know if it is because they were one of the first things I wrote a lot of or if it is because my dad is a poet too, but I can’t recall her ever disliking one of my poems. She has different levels of enthuasm, but so far not an out right dislike.

The essay is in bits and has to be flipped around until it is all in a coherent order. I don’t know if it is good or bad yet. I have to wait until it’s all tidied up.

Saturday I sent out another short story to a prospective publisher. My last rejection was a week ago, but I still have a few things floating around out there. Maybe one day someone will actually accept something.

So that is how my dreams are fairing. I felt like giving up but here I am, still ploddingaway. I guess I am just one of those people that don’t know when to give up. I am hoping being hard headed will pay off one of these days.

Published by: thecoffeefox

Once upon a time there was a woman who was a writer. She was either cursed or blessed from birth to be so and there was much debate on which it was. One day a very discouraging (and not very original) person told her not to give up her day job. The woman smiled and said that was a wonderful idea. Following the unwittingly clever advice of her critic, the woman found a job working nights, which left her days free to write. Even better, the night job had an unusual schedule which packed two weeks worth of work into one, so the writer was able to have every other week off to sit on her front porch, daydream, and of course write. However, working at night and writing during the day left little time for sleep, so the poor writer occasionally went a little mad, but she decided it was an acceptable price to pay to be able to continue following her curse-blessing. Also she likes tea. :)

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