Dear Writer. . . .
You may not be rich.
You may not get letters from adoring readers or crazed fans.
You may not be doing the talk show circuit to promote your latest best seller.
You may feel like you’re never going to get a break / be discovered / find an agent / finish the stupid book you’ve been writing since Ronald Reagan was in the White House.
But still you keep plugging away in the face of discouragement and set-backs and rejections and gray sky days and the temptation to throw your computer out the top window of a thirteen story building.
You write in your journal. You enter contests. You send out queries. You jot down ideas on table napkins and church bulletins or the back of your electric bill. You trade critiques with other writers and keep working on ways to make your story or poem or article better than it was before.
You do it for love.
You do it for the love of creating order and meaning and beauty with words.
You do it because you have been given a gift, and you want to give back.
You do it in spite of everything. You do it anyway.
Here's to you, faithful word smith!
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY. :~)