Sunday, 14 June 2009

No Faith

Okay, so in need of a little ramble at the moment.

As I have said in previous posts, I am working on my first manuscript. I have very nearly finished editing it (very painstakingly!) and is about ready for printing before I send it off to be proof read.

So why the need for a rant? Because someone close to me, who should be supportive, has the sensitivety of a knat. Not even a knat. A molecule. Bugger me, no sensitivety, how's that?

I was talking about the whole process of trying to find an agent and thent trying to get published. His response? Basically why bother? Honestly, I am so (I am going to make up a word. That word shall be....kcifing!) kcifing angry right now. Stupid kcifing fat tears are rolling down my kcifing fat face because I am feeling so kcifing miserable.

If I'm being honest with myself, I haven't really felt okay for a while now. Everything feels forced and nothing feels natural. Like I'm putting on a one woman show and the world is my audience, unaware of the performance. When I started writing again, it was like coming up for fresh air. I had a non-forced spring in my step and always made me smile whenever I thought about what I was working on.

My book that is about finished I am absolutely whole heartedly in love with. I have posted it on a website, and so kcifing chuffed that people are enjoying it! As I have said before, if one person likes my writing, that's good enough for me. But...I want to prove to myself I have what it takes. If I don't pursue this I will only wonder forever what might have been. Worse than that, I will resent the twat who made me give up on my dream.

I was six years old when I wrote my first book. Six. About a little girl who wakes up on Christmas morning to go out to the shed and finds a pony. I don't even like horses, so shows how much imaginiation I had, even then! Writing is in my blood. It courses through my viens powerful and unyielding.

I have supported him in whatever he has wanted to do...half filled dreams always left unfished. Why should I be the same? Why can't he just say, good for you darling, I'm proud of you. What DID he say? You will only get your hopes up. KCIFING LHEL!

But do you know what, bugger it. I LOVE my work, bigheaded as that sounds, and I am not going to let a KCIFING WAZZOCK deter me from trying. So what if I don't make it? Big deal. Everyone know's you have a more likely chance at failing than succeeding in the world of publishing. But someone has to make it. Why can't that someone be me?

I'm not really sure why I am bothering with this blog. I have no followers and this post like no doubt go off in cyber space never to be read by anyone. Never mind though. It has made me feel better and even more determined.

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