My first retraction. This is an odd feeling for me. I know I told you just yesterday that I was in the final stretch of this crazy first manuscript of mine, but apparently God has different plans than I do once again. And perhaps I was getting a little too cocky, so in my newly humbled state, I shall begin.
I got back my first critique last night. In true Julie Roberts fashion, despite the kind and positive comments I received, it was the bad stuff that was easier to believe. That was what caught my attention and held it, putting somewhat of a damper on me evening, despite the fact that Once was the Beauty and the Beast episode I've been waiting for. (It was rather wonderful though, and I kind of love Rumpelstiltskin a little bit more... I believe he secretly wants to be a good guy. Plus they mentioned mermaids last night. Can anyone else hear strains of Part of Your World?)
The words 'you tell, not show' are like a kiss of death to a writer. That's honestly the last thing I was prepared to hear. I was okay with being told that my work would probably be better suited for Young Adult fiction (I mean, there isn't really a market for stories about those of us struggling in our 20's to figure out school, work, life, love... It's like you either need to be writing about teenage drama, or women in their 30's to fit into a distinct category of Young Adult or Women's Fiction...) Anyway, that was fine. It stung a little, but it was something I secretly suspected. But finding out I'm telling, not showing, and that my first person point of view is severely lacking was tough. It screamed at me, "YOU HAVE TO REWRITE AGAIN!" Which made me just want to scream back... literally scream. No words.
The self doubt I've always had issues with, that little voice that says I'm wasting my time and should just scrap the idea of being a writer all together took every negative thing I was dwelling on and tried to tell me that this was proof that it had been right all along. Forget about that contest, about rewriting, about writing all together and just move on. Find something else, another job that will make me money now, not possibly make money down the road if I could get my weak prose published. And I let it talk, considered what it was saying, and agreed with some of it.
I am forgoing the contest. Honestly, I think this critique was a God-send because with the way my bank account is looking, spending the money on that contest to find out what Seekerville told me for free would have been doubly heart breaking... and bank breaking. So in the moment I realized that, the blessings of this situation became a little more apparent to me.
I was told I was a good writer, given a genre to focus on, and some links and tools to help me move forward if I so choose. And I so choose. Not today mind you. Despite realizing the blessings hidden in what feels like my first rejection (even though it isn't), part of me still didn't want to get up today. So I'm going to stay in my PJs (partly because in my depression last night I forgot I was going to do laundry, and I have no clean pants to speak of) and watch some DVD's. Safer in my opinion to let those negative voices quiet down before opening up the idea of another draft.
But tomorrow... Tomorrow I will sit down, plan out said draft, figure out what needs to stay and what needs to go, and start researching authors who used a first person narrative that I enjoyed. This does mean that those of you who were looking forward to soon reading a completed manuscript are going to be waiting a little longer. I apologize for this, but I don't want to have to ask you to re-read again after this re-write when I know there are things I can look at fixing now. I'll keep you updated.
Until then, feel free to have a cry with me: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FNtiC1PdDo (This song always made me want to cry anyway...) and have a laugh too: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cwGwOPeRmE (It's long but it's worth it...) You might as well be on an emotional roller coaster with me. :D
<3 Kayla
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