Cul-de-Sacs & Detours

Similar title to previous post.  But different route.

I rather liked the last post, but apparently it went down about as well as a toppled wheelbarrow filled with wet gravel.  So, I yanked it from public view and kept it for myself.  One day, I will revisit it and laugh, cry, groan and/or moan.

To be honest, I had originally thought of cul-de-sacs and detours in terms of my writing but became sidetracked and focused on that which should remain private.  Enough baring the soul, which served a purpose once upon a time; now, it’s a true “the end”.

As a writer (and editor), I’ve traveled many roads . . . such as the small path I first stepped on at the age of twelve, when I realized I so enjoyed writing and wanted to pursue that as a vocation.  But I remained in a cul-de-sac for several years because I simply couldn’t view the avenue that would lead me onward . . .  to that desired profession.

I ambled down different paths—went to film school and even worked in the industry for a wee while, until the music world opened up.  Those were exciting times.  But even better?  I even had the opportunity to write some promo pieces and that desire to become a writer reemerged in a major [driven] way.

Part-time courses proved fun.  Writing associations and groups were enlightening.  Taking pen to paper was enthralling.  I was on my way to hammering down Writer Highway #33.

Oddly, the access roads on which agents and publishers resided led nowhere; they didn’t seem excited about the manuscripts I so gleefully and proudly submitted.  Why?!  I had marvelous stories to tell, my-oh-my yes.  Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on the perspective), the required skillset [talent] hadn’t really developed—something to do with not seeing the forest for the trees.

Yours truly took a detour or three—kept writing, but not learning.  I think it’s a writer’s thing, probably best known as “ego”, where we don’t/won’t listen to constructive criticism, and continue going (plodding along) and ignoring the signs.

I never gave up, though, even when I received countless rejections and one [very] cruel response from a publisher.  I inflated the vastly deflated self-esteem and plowed down a congested artery, knowing it would be difficult to navigate.  Somehow, some way, however, that ultimate destination would be reached.

Several years later, after paying many tolls, [finally] learning means and methods, and taking the [very] long way around, I arrived at that longed-for journey’s end: becoming published.  A dream come true.  Yes, it doesn’t pay much, and maybe the fame (or notoriety? LOL) isn’t there, but it’s all good.  Very good indeed.  <pat on back>

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