Ernest certainly had a way with words! How very true.
Many people I know think that writing, that being an author, is a “breeze” and tell me what a “cruisy” life it must be not having to go to an “office” or “work site.”.
If only they knew how we cry, bleed, and ache for our characters as their story unfolds.
If only they knew how our hearts break, and our guts churn.
How, at times, each word is torn from us.
And, of course, once we have given birth to our story, we are then at the mercy of editors, silently willing them to find merit in our labours, so they will publish the words we have sweated over.
And if we finally do get published, we are, once again, at someone else’s mercy.
This time; the public.
The public is diverse. We are all so different, and so, of course, not everyone is going to like our words. Some may even hate them.
Any creative soul, be they a writer, artist, designer, architect, or musician, who puts their work into the public forum has to learn to accept that. They have to remember their creativity is about being true to their vision, not about acceptance, reviews, or accolades.They have to remember that the achievement is making their idea real, not in having it applauded.
Whenever I am about to put something I’ve created into the public forum, I drag out my copy of The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand, which has a million and one quotes to inspire me – in fact, I believe it should be compulsory reading for every creative soul.
Below is one quote, I must have read a thousand times or more.
“Where I can think of nothing and feel nothing except that I designed that temple. I built it. Nothing else can seem very important.”
“You shouldn’t have built it. You shouldn’t have delivered it to the sort of thing they’re doing.”
“That doesn’t matter. Not even that they’ll destroy it. Only that it had existed.”