At Least for me it is. (By the way, I’ve just hit the 3,000 word mark- needless to say I didn’t reach my 25,000 word goal.) I was thinking about this today and realized I’ve been living my own personal “Never Been Kissed” life. Not the kissing part but the fitting in. I was one of those lucky kids who lived in the twilight of high school society. I ran with the free spirits but I had no problem with the cool kids either.
There were times when I wish I was a little bit cooler but that really just happened around prom when dates were arranged and post-prom parties were clandestine appointments. It was those moments that I re-live as I work on my stories. I will gladly admit that I wish I could run with the big guns in the genres I’m working in. Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Agatha Christie, Danielle Steele, Mary Higgins Clark, Toni Morrison, J.K. Rowling, the list goes on.
When I’m not feeling like the socially awkward 15-year old who’s still wearing acid wash jeans, high tops, a side ponytail and a headgear (for those of you who haven’t needed one, count yourself lucky. And those of you know don’t know what it is, it’s an orthodontic torture device guaranteeing untreatable headache whenever its worn), I’m feeling like the kid sister that just can’t keep up. Most days though, I feel like the high school nerd. I need to re-watch that afternoon special about how to embrace my individuality.
Anyways, it dawned on me that I’ve been pitting myself against the writers who have been writing for ages and expecting I can achieve their level of wonderfulness but that’s unreasonable. I’m not even close to their calibre and my style may be influenced by them but it’s not the same (if it was, I’d most likely be plagiarizing). Besides, I believe that imitation is the sincerest form of failure. I should be proud of my own distinct voice and appreciate my strengths. There’s nothing wrong with any genre I end up excelling in. Just because I love specific genres, it doesn’t mean that if they’re not my strongest match that I’m any less of a writer than one of my idols.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not comparing myself to any of the authors I listed above, in fact I’m not comparing myself to any published author. I just wasn’t giving myself enough credit for what I’ve accomplished so far and failed to see the potential in my stories. I’ve always been one to edit restaurant menus and texting shortcuts drive me crazy so I know there’s a lot of work ahead of me that I should enjoy. This process is so far from over. Maybe the grass isn’t greener on the other side. Perhaps it’s Kentucky Bluegrass on my side versus the good old fashioned lawn in your local backyard (unless you happen to have some bluegrass, of course) on the other side of the fence.
Regardless of what’s happening, I realize the story is progressing much more quickly now and I’m enjoying it so much more since I’ve given up hoping and forcing it to be something other than what its destiny dictates. And that makes my writer’s soul content.
*Luckily I’m young enough to have not suffered through the 80’s in high school. The late 90’s was tough enough.
**Someone needs to burst my little egomaniacal bubble. Where’s Pascal when you need him?!
12 Novels in 12 Months 