Good evening readers.
I hope all are doing fabulous on this Monday evening.
Here, I’m full of a great dinner, the making of which I’ll write about sometime soon.
In the meantime, I thought I should explain to those of you who have been so faithfully following Miss Mazie why there hasn’t been a chapter 7 yet. I’m not really sure how to explain it but well, I kind of lost my nerve. Maybe I should just tell what happened from the beginning and maybe, who knows? It might help.
You see, after I’d written the first half of the story, I was feeling very excited about it. In fact, I was a bit proud because GrannyMoon, a fellow blogger I admire very much had even put part of it into her Weekly Feast. That had really boosted my self-confidence, but just as one friend had boosted me another knocked me flat.
I’m sure they didn’t mean to. I mean, I get that but the comments they made when I sent that first half to them to read were so brutal in the way they were presented it really knocked all the joy I was feeling from the simple act of telling a story out of me.
I sent the story to an editor I know. I didn’t want it edited, wasn’t looking for that type of feedback at all but it seems as though this person cannot read anything just for the joy of reading the story and when they wrote back they said, “I hope you’ve got a good editor because I found many grammar and spelling mistakes.”
Nothing about the content of the story. No comment at all as to whether they thought it was any good, nothing but the abrupt critique and when I wrote back that I was just writing for the pure pleasure of writing the story all I got in reply was that I shouldn’t have made it public without having it edited first.
Since that time, I cannot pick up the thread. The plot has gone and every time I sit down to write anything at all I can think of nothing but their words.
I will try and pick it up again soon but between that experience and other things going on right now who knows when that will be.
I’m sorry. I guess I’m letting everyone down, but I simply don’t know what to do.
As I write my tears fall because to me it feels like a piece of me died. All the passion and excitement I felt for the folks in James Landing has simply gone.
I don’t know how to describe the grief I feel. I know I shouldn’t let the critique of one person derail me so, but it truly hurt me a lot.
Anyhow, I just wanted to explain.