Monday, April 23, 2012

"Making it" As a Writer

How can you tell when you've "made it" as a writer? Positive feedback from someone other than your mother? Placing in a conference contest? Personal notes scribbled at the bottom of rejection slips?

Getting an agent?
Landing a publisher?

Here is when I knew I had made it: In a moment of sheer desperation I cried the question to the heavens, "Is this what I'm supposed to be doing? Am I wasting my time? Will the sweet waters of the publishing heavens ever rain down upon my parched and wanting self?"

And before I even had a second to contemplate the numerous numbers I would need to call, immediately, should I begin receiving actual answers to my pleas (shrink, husband, nearest medical facility, possibly a priest) I realized I already had an answer.

It didn't matter.

It didn't matter, even if the answer I heard was, "Yes, Becky. You ARE wasting your time. This will NEVER happen for you so go back to making those beautifully crocheted blankets that make such wonderful, and practical, Christmas presents...that is all."

I would STILL keep writing. Even if I knew for sure what the end result was, and that result was BAD, BAD news, I would still keep on.

That was the very second I knew I had "made it" as a writer. It's when you know for sure you'd do it anyway, even if your only audience ends up being the inside of your drawer. 


  1. I LOVE this post, Becky. Thanks for the reminder.

  2. This is very true... At least it is very true for me and the best part is that writing is fulfilling even if no one is reading it but yourself... Or your mother :)

  3. The best I can say is thank you for sharing this. I've had similar thoughts and in those off moments of what am I doing- in the often solitary act of writing? This is the exact kind of affirmation I needed that I am indeed a part of a community of other like-minded writers.

    1. It can be hard for people who enjoy speding hours on end inside their own head to connect with others...glad this post was helpful. Best to you Deirdre.