So, you know what happens when one goes on vacation to one's Internetless Mother's house for a week? One comes back to over 2,000 blog posts to slog through. Yeah. I never really caught up. So, I decided to start fresh.
I'm back into the submission cycle again, and I know some of you all are as well. There's very little that makes me feel more vulnerable and unsure about myself than submitting my work to editors, agents, and markets. Really. It's 1) Stranded with car trouble 2) Job interviews and 3) Submitting fiction. And the last two are pretty much the same thing, aren't they?
Over the past week, several people offered up some words to help us find courage, and to stay true to ourselves while carving out a place in the artistic world.
And this last bit isn't a link - it's a quote by Teddy Roosevelt that my hubby found and took the time to send to me in a series of text messages during the day. He never tells me what I want to hear, but he always knows what I need to hear. I hope all of you have someone like that in your life.
"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."
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