Harsh Reality

I cannot truly fail unless I give up and quit. Therefore, my greatest enemy is me.

When I walk into a bookstore or library and see how many books there already are in the world (and I know what I'm seeing in front of me is but a glimpse of the true reality), I often get overwhelmed. What the hell am I doing? The last thing the world needs is yet another book. Written by me, of all people.

And yet...

Think about the last book you read that you really loved. What if the author of that book hadn't written it? What if he or she had focused all his or her efforts on becoming a doctor or a lawyer or a shoe salesman instead? Think of the hours of enjoyment you would have missed out on!

Lots of people are capable of selling a particular pair of shoes. But nobody else in the whole world can tell the particular stories that live inside my head. If I don't tell them, they will never be told.

Not everyone will read my book. No doubt fewer still will love it. But some will. For some, my unique voice will encounter their unique heart, and there will be that thrill of recognition between kindred spirits. A bond will be formed. Will that make all my labor and heartache worthwhile? For me it will.

But what if I don't make it that far? What if I spend the rest of my life writing novel after novel, and one after another they end up in a drawer or a box somewhere, never to see print at all? Will I have failed?

Fellow author Joe Konrath has said, "There's a word for a writer who never gives up - published." My gut tells me he's right. I hope he's right. Because I'm not going to quit. Screw the career I might have had, if I focused on something else. This is what I do.

Even if he's wrong - heaven forbid! - and none of my books are ever published, I still won't have failed. I will have spent my life following my heart and doing what is most important to me.

There are worse fates.