It's 6:30 in the morning, the day after I was scheduled to post to our blog. Somehow I have finally arrived at this page after frantically trying to log-on all day. I am afraid to exit, for fear that I will never again find this page. So, even though I am not mentally prepared to begin my first foray into this technological abyss this early in the morning, I will plug on for the sake of keeping my commitment to my fellow writers and most importantly to myself.
Making the decision to write is a commitment. It is a commitment to our craft, our fellow writers and most of all to ourselves. At its best, writing bares the soul for the world to explore its complexities; and at its worst, leaves us stripped bare of all our defenses for others to examine, critique and dissect. It isn't for sissies or the faint hearted.
Thank goodness that I unwittingly stumbled into the Birmingham chapter of RWA. Here, I have found a special group of kindred spirits who support each other unfailingly, encourage each other no matter what the issue, and celebrate unstintingly each other's successes. They are the life raft of hope sent to those of us who are forging ahead into virgin territory.
My techno mentor, Carla, has never made me feel dumb, or even worse old, as she patiently explains how to do the most basic things. I hope that my learning curve is faster than her patience quota or I am in big trouble. I thank her, my critique partners (you know who you are), and everyone else at Southern Magic. They have supported me on my quest to understand an industry that provides a constant roller coaster ride for our emotions.
I would strongly encourage anyone attempting to become a published writer to follow the path to your local chapter. It is well worth the effort. I am now comfortable saying, "Give me my machete. I have friends who will help me mow down that overgrown path to success!"