Ramblings

I wish someone would have told me at the outset that the road to actually becoming a published Author rather than an unpublished Writer would be so difficult. I mean, I've loved writing since about the sixth grade, but I didn't start thinking about seriously publishing until high school. See that book to the right of the screen? Yup. The one with the wonky cover called A Boy Named Joe? That was my first attempt at publishing. Self-publishing, granted, but publishing nonetheless. I plan on revising it someday, and maybe trying to submit it to a more traditional publisher (be it print or E) but the time for that isn't now.

For some reason, I was devoured by the publishing bug last year and I've been trying like mad to make the leap from unpubbed to pubbed ever since. I've done everything I can think of, from crafting stories specifically for certain publishers, to writing pieces for their submission/anthology calls. I've never dealt well with rejection, but for some reason I keep going back. Keep putting myself out there for the editors to reject for one reason or another.

Just last weekend, I sent subs out to three different publishers on a whim. Three days later, I get an email from one of the editors. There I am, thinking to myself: "Damn. Was it that bad?" But then I opened the email only to see that the editor loved my manuscript and was offering me a contract. Two days and lots of excited screaming later, I'm laying in my bed, still feeling the giddiness from that email, but I've still got story ideas running rampant through my brain.

There are those pesky submissions calls for those oh-so-alluring publishers (I won't mention that I just found another one not too long ago and the idea is already forming) that I just can't seem to resist. At the moment, I've got plans to write three different manuscripts, for three different calls, for three different publishers. And they're all due within twenty-four hours of each other. It's madness to attempt, but I know I'm going to. Because there's just something about the process of writing a book that I can't stay away from. But there's an even greater something about sending that book to someone else to read who could either (unintentionally, of course)tear away all your confidence, or elate you like you never thought possible.

Even now as I lay here, listening to Lady Gaga's new album, I'm about to go back to plotting the story for one of these calls. I wonder if other writers go through this. I can't be the only one. Can I?