I didn’t even feel bad about it, just instinctively knew I had to say no, that the direction they wanted to take with the book was not the direction that I wanted to go. It’s a scary feeling not having a contract or deadline, scary because [...]]]> I turned down a book deal this week.

I didn’t even feel bad about it, just instinctively knew I had to say no, that the direction they wanted to take with the book was not the direction that I wanted to go. It’s a scary feeling not having a contract or deadline, scary because you just don’t know when you’re next book will come out. But it’s scarier still to have something out there, and to have it twisted and turned into something that you can’t be proud of.

When they called me with the offer I felt an instinctive pit in my gut and every pore in my being told me, “Katrina, just say no.” I kept my cool, and let them know I would think about it and get back with them. I called the hubby and told him what I wanted to do. I said a quick prayer. I called my mama. And then I sent them an email and turned down the offer. I felt a sense of freedom with making that decision—I can’t describe it I just felt…lighter.

You see, I’ve been putting unnecessary and unwarranted pressure on myself to churn a book out every year. “That’s what the big boys do, so that’s what I’m going to do to.”

How wrong I was. I am not a big boy. I am still a child wading in this publishing pool, and to be completely honest—I still need time to develop my voice as a writer. Don’t get me wrong—I can write—of that I’m sure. But the only pressure I am going to put on myself right now is to make this book I’m working on the best it can be. To give it my all. Oprah said that she learned as a young girl, that if she did her best she would get noticed. That applies in anything we do, if you do your best—and I’m talking your personal best, not comparing yourself to others—then I’ll get the attention I need to get my book published. Then I’ll be able to swim in deeper waters, so to speak, to challenge myself further with my writing.

So I plan to take most of this year to work on this book. I don’t want to patch it up just so it can grab the attention of an agent. I really want it to be my best work as of right now. I wish that for all my books, that at that time and place in my life that I gave it my best shot. Yes, looking back I’ll cringe when I read some of the things I’ve written, but I look forward to doing that. Because it means growth. Because it means I am a better writer.

As a writer I can be a heavy weight to carry. What I mean is, writers need so much from other people–we need admiration, praise, encouragement–we need so much from our family and friends that I can only imagine what they think of me.

As a hairstyist, I’m used to rejection. It’s [...]]]>

Source: everymantri.com

As a writer I can be a heavy weight to carry. What I mean is, writers need so much from other people–we need admiration, praise, encouragement–we need so much from our family and friends that I can only imagine what they think of me.

As a hairstyist, I’m used to rejection. It’s part of the business. If someone doesn’t like their hair, you tell them to pay up and keep moving. (Don’t worry I wasn’t that tough.) I rarely took my work home, I simply shrugged it off.

Being a new writer feels just like when I started doing hair. I’d come home beaten and bruised, confidence smashed to pieces. But after a long talk with my parents I would get back out there, day after humiliating day, until I perfected my look and got people to come back to me. I depended on my parents to tell me that I was talented and that, with practice, I would succeed.

The same goes for writing. I have enough rejection letters that I could wall-paper my living room. And I have to admit, some days I feel beat down, depressed, and just plain ‘ole not good enough. On those days my husband   scrapes me off the floor and reminds me to keep pushing, keep fighting, soon the story I want to tell will be told. He gets me to change my perspective and continually reminds me that I’m a published author. So many people cannot say that.

I know I’m a heavy load to carry sometimes. (Alright all the time). But the more I learn about writing the more the dialogue switches to internal. I’m learning to pick myself off the floor, to tell myself that I am good enough. But for now it feels good to know that someone has my back, and can carry me when the going gets rough.