I hadn’t checked my score over at the writing contest in about a week, then I got a really nice comment today from someone via private message. So I went and checked. Tomorrow, I go offline (thank GOD), and as of now, my score is a 4.8 out of 10. A lot better than I thought it would be, but not as high as I’d hoped. There are many risks and flaws with a competition like that, so I just hope I get good editorial exposure if nothing else. I never expected to win. The general public seems to be cruel to writers as a whole–they want to do what they can to bring us down. I think it’s because everyone thinks writing is SO easy and Lord knows it’s not.

Most of the comments I got were complimentary in nature, with the usual critiques thrown in. Most of the people were mature and helpful, not mean or just doing it to hurt the writer. But having an entry posted like that for people to vote on is nerve-wracking. And having undergone a submissions experience, I did what was best. Submit and forget. So I forgot until I got that comment today. Well, pretended to forget, anyway. I don’t even know where the actual link is; I have to scroll back in my LJ entries to find it.

The most frustrating part for me, as a writer, is finding balance. People want realistic characters and situations, but if you make them TOO realistic, then they pick on that. Characters and story lines have to be the perfect balance of fantasy and realism. Of OVER THE TOP vs. REALITY. I’ve seen things that authors have gotten away with that are wayyyy too crazy to ever happen, but I know that if a newbie tried it, they’d get “dude, that is OVER THE TOP.” But isn’t a little bit of “over the top” what readers want? I mean, anyone can live boring ole life. But make it TOO over the top and you get the cries of “that’s not real, that’s stereotypical, that’s blah blah blah.”

Whoever said writing was easy needs a swift kick to the head. It’s among the hardest things I ever do. And every Sunday, I sit at my computer, trying to do as much as I can. Throughout the week, I soak up books like a sponge soaks up water, trying to figure out what this author did right, or what this author did wrong, and trying to see what I can learn to do. I take notes on a yellow legal pad (hmm, must get more of those soon), I go through old books and use them for parts, and I try to make sense of the ideas running around in my head.

I still shelter myself from the writing world a LOT. I check out a few writer friends’ journals every once in a while, I only read Miss Snark occasionally, and I haven’t been on the YA Teenchicklit Loop in months. I have well over 5,000 unread emails in there. It’s still too painful for me. I have the neurosis of comparing myself, and of getting painfully jealous of others’ successes. Sometimes I feel like God’s going to keep this dream of mine away from me until I learn not to be so envious. But I’m only human, and I don’t know if I can ever live up to that kind of expectation.

I don’t know if I’ll ever sell a novel. I don’t know if I’ll ever make a living off of my writing. But right now, I’m willing to keep trying. The fire inside me won’t let me stop.