I suppose, technically, that there is always an option to quit. yes, the word “failure” does exist and for many reasons: to know when to move on; to not waste your life banging your head against a wall that won’t break down; to let your friends and family say, “We love you, but we told you so” no matter what field you’re trying to break into.
do you know how many times I’ve quit being a writer? none. do you know how many times I’ve quit submitting so I can let the sting of rejection fade? lol! too many. being a writer doesn’t involve a paycheck (well, not a big one for me as yet anyhow). I’ve been rejected so many times it’s ridiculous. and yet, I keep coming back for more punishment and keep submitting. I blame my parents. My childhood bedroom walls were covered in “believe” and “achieve” posters as a kid. plus my whole family is stubborn as hell. Irish. ’nuff said.
this is just a random post to pre-remind myself that if this next agent to whom I sent my scifi novel Fluctuations rejects me, or if my stage reading goes horribly this month, that I write because I breathe. Those four completed novels, three screenplays, five tv spec scripts and four original tv pilots (omg really? that many? I’m insane! lol!) on my harddrive may never get published/produced. they could get transferred from computer to computer until the day I die. and sure, commercial success would be awesome because bills and having a day job suck. I want to be Joss Whedon/Jane Espenson/Marion Zimmer Bradley/Anne McCaffrey all rolled into one (would that be JK Rowling or Stephanie Meyers then? teehee!), that’s my ultimate goal. me? ambitious? (again, I blame my parents)
but that’s not really success as a writer, is it? success as a writer is, simply, to continue writing. and since there’s not much chance (read: none whatsoever) that I’ll ever stop writing, I guess I’m already a success. :o)