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My writer-friend Rebecca Sheraton sent me a link to a blog post she knew I should read. It’s great to have a writing buddy who has your back and shares inspiring blog posts.
The article encourages writers to celebrate the small stuff. Rather than focussing solely on the big wins — the contracts, the launches, the book in your hands, blogger and author Julie Hedlund advocates savouring every little step the journey. I scrolled on to read some of her other posts only to discover she writes a regular Sunday Gratitude article. Bingo!
That little flash of inspiration has spawned this, the first in my new series, Grateful 4. I will regularly (but not too frequently) share four things I’m grateful for and encourage readers to share something too. I’ll hashtag it #Gr8ful4 so you can join in!
Without further ado, here are this month’s Grateful 4.
I have often said that I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for the teachers in my youth. My high school art teacher, Sister Leonardine, always gets a special mention.
That was a L-O-N-G time ago. Now I have three highly creative daughters, and like me, they’ve been blessed to have the most wonderful team of art teachers mentor them through their secondary education. All three girls have their own style, which was nurtured by their beautiful art instructors. A big shout out to Lyn, Barb, Catherine, and Kathy.
My youngest daughter won an award last weekend, the Creative Generation Excellence Award. It’s a big deal in Queensland. The winners’ art goes on tour to be displayed in various galleries around the state, eventually finishing up at GOMA in Brisbane next year. Very few artists can say their work was shown in the Gallery of Modern Art! Part of the prize is a place in a silversmithing workshop with the other winners. I’m so proud of her achievement.
I’m fully aware that it is also her teachers’ achievement. They entered four students from the school, and all four placed. Two won excellence awards, and the other two were highly commended. The fact that all four students were honoured says something tremendous about the teachers.
I am grateful for their input into and influence on my daughters’ lives.
I am so fortunate. I have a great job, and I work with wonderful people. Of all the rewarding jobs someone could have, school counselling would have to be near the top. Yes, yes, it has its challenges, but that’s a topic for another day. This past week, I got to spend some time with little kids. It happens occasionally. So occasionally, that when I do get to hang out with them, I’m blown away by their gorgeous little smiles and their great big malleable hearts. It’s so refreshing to be reminded to play.
In addition to some counselling work with younger children, I ran a writing workshop. Gosh, those little writers were a joy! So enthusiastic. With the slightest inspiration from me, they started gushing out stories. They were mini geysers of creativity, bursting for release. They had fun. I had fun. It was awesome.
I’m so grateful for the opportunity to work with children.
Being part of a small community of like-minded souls is such a wonderful privilege. If I am rich in anything, I am rich in this. My workplace is such a place, and I’m lucky enough to also be a part of a vibrant group of writers. Brisbane WriteLinks is a lovely group of writers and illustrators of children’s books. These people inspire me; they stretch me; and, as I discovered this week, they comfort me.
This week, my email inbox did overtime delivering bad news. I got not one but three knock-backs in one week. After several years of writing and submitting professionally, rejection letters are “Meh, par for the course.” I know it’s all part of the publication process. Every writer gets them. JK Rowling famously got a gazillion before someone finally snapped up the first Harry Potter manuscript. They’re your dues, your chops, your apprenticeship. Yada, yada, yada.
I know all that, and I also know that knowing it isn’t a talisman against the sting. Most days, I can let the rejection wash over me, but there are moments when the disappointment can’t be swallowed down.
The first bit of news this week was like that. Form rejection letters are the worst. Hours of toil go into crafting query letters, so to get a one-sentence “Dear Author” letter in return is pretty bleak.
I tried all day to shrug off the disappointment, but it was about my baby, my brand new work. I couldn’t. So I reached out to my tribe, a bunch of writers who ride on the same rocky roller coaster.
“I need a group hug,” I said on our FaceBook group page. They were so sweet. Though we mostly inspire one another with good news of breakthroughs, they were ready to commiserate and encourage. I haven’t mentioned the third No-Thanks to them. They’ll think I’m bragging…
I’m so grateful for the support of my writer-friends.
I follow this guy on Twitter who has something like 59,000 followers. What the? Chuck Wendig has 8,300 subscribers to his blog. Those are impressive numbers, which translate to enviable readerships. I have to admit I don’t really get people who have thousands of friends on FaceBook. Why?
Ever heard of Klout? It’s a web service that rates your Influence (with a capital I) based on an aggregate of your social media interactions. Klout gives users a score between 0 and 100. Barack Obama is 99. Justin Bieber is (*not that I care*) 92. I’ve never bothered to get my Klout score, because I’d rather not be on the same spectrum as Justin B and, more to the point, it would only prove what I already know: I am, despite being a regular user of many social media platforms, a small fry lost in cyberspace in comparison to the hot dogs of the social media cosmos.
And one more thing against Klout: For whatever reason, Klout doesn’t consider Pinterest worthy of Influence, and that’s where I’m smokin! (Sort of. Whatever. I’d rather have a few meaningful interactions than millions of vapid ones).
Here’s the thing: I’m not crying about not having a huge following. Instead,
Most of all, I’m grateful for the people in my immediate world who encourage me in my writing. I have friends and colleagues who regularly ask how things are progressing. My husband is the best. He fully believes in my eventual success and supports my dreams, even though it means I’m often vague, distracted by my pixie-muse.
I’m grateful for readers and supporters of dreams.
What are you grateful for? Share something in the comments! Don’t forget to share on Twitter with #Gr8ful4.