Doing the Work

A lot of established writers like to advise new authors that “if you do the work, the recognition and the money will come.” Hooey. Or that “the joy is in doing the work, not in receiving acclaim.” Also hooey. I want some recognition for my efforts.

I don’t need Oscars or National Book Awards, just a few more people showing up at my library speeches when I promote my first novel.

BUT I have to admit that when I’m perking, when the ideas are flowing and my fingers are dancing over the keys, it feels really good. So good, in fact, that I can say to myself, “Enjoy this. This may be the only satisfaction you are ever going to get out of writing novels.” And not only can I say this, I can accept it.

I’m having one of those good periods right now. Much of what I write may end up in the trash can. But during these days of covid, when so many of life’s pleasures are beyond my reach, I can savor those moments when my brain is cooking, even if the results of my cooking are inedible. I can enjoy the process and not worry about the final outcome; that is, whether anyone ever reads what I’m writing.

I won’t always feel so relaxed as I do now. But for now, it feels great.