Hello,
It is Sunday morning, and today the conference ends. At least, the Dallas part
of it does. But I know the conference goes on in the heart of each attendee,
because we take this experience home with us, incorporating it into our lives,
our writing, and our stories.
Last night's banquet and awards ceremony
was, as always, first-class. I knew several finalists in different categories,
but unfortunately, none of them went across stage to receive the award. But the
cool thing is they were recognized for their talent, their commitment to the
craft, and their perseverance to pursue the higher calling. They are all
winners.
If I had to summarize this evening in one word, it would be
"gracious". I sat at the dinner table with Shelly who was awarded her first
contract by Barbour Publishing on Thursday evening. I remember Shelly from
previous conferences. When I first met her, she had eight children and a husband
at home. She told me she began writing about 30 years ago and put that dream on
hold while she had a family. She picked the stories up again about 10 years ago.
Now she has "5 or 6" children at home -- her children, and it probably depends
on the day of the week how many the number is. She still prepares the meals in
advance her family will eat while she is at conference, which I recall was one
of the conditions of her coming to conference.
Seems to me that many
stories I heard from writers this conference was that their "overnight" success
took 10 years. That gives me a lot of comfort, since I am in my tenth year of
writing seriously, of learning the craft, of submitting and getting rejected.
Perhaps, like a good wine, writers need to be aged, the craft needs to be honed
like an ax on a grindstone, the desire needs to be tested like precious metal in
a fire.
I was asked by one editor why I think it has taken me ten years
to get to this point, and I said it was because the Lord knew what I needed. Ten
years ago, although I was a believer, success would likely have caused me to fly
off on my own. I think it comes down to pride, at least for me. And while I
still struggle with that, I do believe the battles I've been through and the
victories the Lord has prepared for me have tempered the pride to the point
where, while I won't be perfect, at least I'll be manageable.
For every
writer out there, I know you've all envisioned walking across the stage at an
awards ceremony and giving an acceptance speech. So I want you to share what you
would say if your name was called as the winner. Here's mine:
"Stories are
all about experiences. So thank you to everyone who rejected me in any way,
offended me on purpose, hurt me without compunction, loved me without
reservation, gave their time without condition, and hugged me when I cried.
Thank you, God, for the gift of writing. Thank you, Patrick, for believing in me
and supporting me beyond what seemed reasonable to others, and thank you, Jesus,
for yanking me back from myself and forcing me to agree with you that you knew
what was best."
I'm sure there will be others I'll mention by name, like
my wonderful agent Terrie Wolf, my critique group, ACFW.
After all, they
give you two minutes, and I'm not planning on wasting any of it!
Donna
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