Am I the Sanjaya of Writing?

So I watched American Idol last night. I know, I know, I'm an addict, I confess. But I love viewing the raw talent and watching the growth and development throughout the elimination weeks, seeing who has the savvy, who doesn't. Who can read through the lines, sift through the crap, and find what it is in commercialism that works. Doesn't matter if it is singing, or writing, it's all the same.

I loved Sanjaya because he had a presence. Yet on the same hand, I wanted him to be eliminated because he wasn't quite cutting it. He couldn't sing, damn it. Geez, he's as tone deaf as I am, but that kid has something and it might be sheer determination, I'm not sure. He touched me on some inner level. He's a fighter.

He made me ask that awful question: "Am I the Sanjaya of writing?"

What if I can't write, but people are humoring me to continue to perform? What if I'm an embarassment to the writing community? Sanjaya cried in public, in front of millions of viewers, and I cried with him. I felt and understood his pain. His loss of the dream touched me at my inner core and I wanted to hug him, tell him he was brave, and wonderful, for trying and to never give up or give in. Many don't. Many have the idea, the glimmer, I coulda, shoulda, didn't. Sanjaya did. For getting out there, for putting his stuff up for everyone to take potshots at, I admire him. And the thing is he's a kid, just a kid with a dream, he's not some old jaded fart like me, someone who's been around the block a time or two. I hope he takes voice lessons and uses that amazing charisma and works his charm and his art and becomes the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Me, I think I'm toast.

I'm back!

Wow! I can't stop writing (despite having a toothache that had to wait until today before the dentist could see to it AND do a darn root canal.) Man, last Thursday I was typing away and took a swig from a cold water bottle. A pain like you wouldn't believe ran straight down to my toes. I swear! (Well, I did too, but I won't tell you what I said.) I jumped up and ran to the kitchen and swished my mouth out with warm salt water. Then I called the dentist's office. He was on vacation until Tuesday!

This has been an amazing week and I've accomplished so much. The deconstruction (and reconstruction of Beyond the Shadows) is almost completed. Then I'm giving it another read through and submitting it. I really like what I've done with the story and I love my characters. I always did, but with the rewrite they have become more real, well-rounded, really likeable. Just hope I can do the same with Gone Tropical, because it is going to go through the same process, and probably I'll be starting it next week.

Only one person, one agent, has seen GT, so I'm going to pitch it at RWA National in Dallas. Have to go this year because my critique buddy, Trish Cerrone, is a Golden Heart finalist. Her second final in two years. Yay, Trish! I need to go to applaud, whistle, and cry when she wins. She's a fabulous writer.

Finally made my decision on conferences for the year. Unfortunately, I won't go to Australia. My kids want to come with me and visit with family and that's just too darned expensive for this year. That would blow my entire vacation and conference budget. We'll do a family trip next year.

Have revisted my one year and five year goal plan and adjusted those. Now I'm ready to rock 'n roll. Look out world, here I come.