No More Begging

Submit query letter.

Wait four weeks for reply.

Receive nicely written rejection letter.

Repeat. 

Submit query letter.

Wait four weeks for reply.

Receive nicely written rejection letter.

Repeat. 

Submit query letter.

Wait four weeks for reply.

Receive nicely written rejection letter.

Repeat. 

I can’t do this anymore.

I have to break this cycle of discouragement

I’m not sure why they call creative vocations dream jobs. The process of pursuing your calling is the most challenging process a person will ever have to go through. Jumping over hurdles of rejection and low self-esteem is not for the weak of heart. It takes a certain level of strength to still believe in yourself when no one else seems to.

Well, after years of jumping hurdles and countless rejection letters, I’m done.

…with query letters that is.

I have composed a total of three books that has yet to see the light of day. Why? Because everyone who has the opportunity to read it seems to think it is not worthy of being birthed into the world. Every time I finish something and feel so proud, that confidence is brutally murdered by the slightest negative comment. And you know what I have come to realize? It’s not everyone else…

It’s me.

It’s me. I’m the problem. The only person stopping my books from seeing the light of day is me. Every time I receive a rejection letter or hear disapproval on the topics I choose to write about, I walk away from my babies (my projects). After carrying around the idea for nine months and watching it grow, I abort my efforts suddenly. I lose hope. I eventually stop looking over them and praying for them. I look for something else to nurture. As if those aborted ideas were not worth the effort. But…they are.

Each of the three books I have written is amazing. The words in those manuscripts has the potential to save a life and change the world. And you know what else? I have decided I’m no longer going to beg big name publishers to give me a chance. If they can’t see the greatness and potential in what I have written. They will see once they catch wind of it on the other side of the publishing process.

No more query letters. No more pouring my heart out to agents who only listen when you have 50000000000 followers on social media. No more setting my hopes up only to get politely rejected. No more. No more begging. No more persuading. No more proving the worth of my work.

So, what am I saying?

I’m saying,

I have decided…

…to self publish.

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Keep Creating

When I was six years old, I wrote my first poem. I remember the moment very vividly. I was standing in the driveway of my family’s home, when I looked into the sky. It appeared that a storm was approaching, and I could hear the rumble of thunder in the distance. That is when these words rose up from within me:

“What’s that I hear?

A thunderstorm near

Oh my dear”

These words may not seem significant to you, but they mean the world to me. This was the birthplace of my relationship with poetry/writing.

Before I had friends. Before I knew how to communicate with my family. Even before I knew God. There was poetry. Poetry is how I process and communicate with the world around me. I would even say it was the starting point of God’s pursuit of me. When I write, I wish I could say I was the source, but I am not. The words seem to just flow from deep parts within my nephash (soul) that even I haven’t fully experienced. It’s like giving birth.

Last week, I was both humbled and deeply inspired when asked to be a featured artist for an event. I did nothing to deserve that platform. I did not strive for it. I did not ask for it. Yet, it was offered to me by people who could see my art even when I was not creating. I was blessed with the opportunity to display my short film and perform my poetry.

It felt like a dream the entire night. Even as I recited the poem I had rehearsed all week, I could not understand how I had grabbed the attention of everyone sitting in the bar. I could not believe they cared and related to the words of the piece, and I still can’t. However, God wanted to show me what He had been telling me all along.

I am a writer. 

He wants me to create. He wants me to be a storyteller. He did, in fact, place this gift inside of me. My poems are not in vain, and they do matter. They are part of my light. I always believed I was placed here to do great things, but after life knocked me down for seven years in a row, I was starting to think it was just a fantasy. But it’s not. It’s very real. I believe God let me go through the journey I have been on, because he wanted me to remain humble. He wanted to teach me that it will not happen by my strength but by His alone. Everything He promised will happen, but only because of His power. Yes, I still have to be obedient, but I don’t have to map out every detail of my life. Besides, our humanly plans never seem to work out anyways. Instead, I must always recognize that God is in control.

I did nothing to deserve that stage, but God gave it to me. I choose to believe this is only the beginning. I am a writer. I am a poetess. My words matter. I have a story inside of me that only I can tell. All I have to do is…

…keep creating.

The rest is up to God…

…and I think I’m in good hands.

I Have Something to Say

fullsizeoutput_1a17I wish I could adequately put into words the closeness I experience with God. This is my desire, not so that you will feel I am holier or try to mimic how I converse with Jesus, but so that you would be encouraged to continue on your own journey. Life will throw you so many curveballs, and these disappointments will have an impact on how you view God. They may push you to lean more fully on Him because you realize He is the only constant thing in existence, or perhaps they might lead to hard questions and difficult conversations that place a proverbial wedge between you and your creator. Whichever direction you find yourself drifting in, just know God is walking with you.

God is my best friend. I think that is a title that gets thrown around without any real weight attached to it these days, so let me be more specific. He knows me. When I don’t speak, He knows how I feel. In every situation He knows how I would best recieve love, and He gives it. He never condemns me (although He has the authority to), He never focuses on my flaws, He never dismisses my emotions. He listens, He speaks, He responds. (Maybe I’m just oppertating in the image of my father with this site. Hmm…). He is so patient with me. He is so kind. He is the perfect love I always wanted but never really believed existed. He speaks to the life inside of me, and holds my hands through every difficult situation. He is literally my best friend.

Life has been difficult. Every year feels like it comes with a new set of heavier burdens than the year prior. Rejection. Debt. Tension. Discontentment. Hopelessness. Depression. Death. Suicidal thoughts. Disappointments. The list keeps going, but the list will never be bigger than God.

All of this is a long winded-introduction to a simple conversation I had with God last night. Through revelation that could only come from God, I was empowered by this truth:

I love writing, and the world could benefit from what I have to say. 

So, I confessed that outloud to God and my empty room. Then God responded in a way that was a lot more loving than how it will read on this post.

God: Now act like it.

I honestly was beginning to question a lot. Let’s just say I was starting to sound like Solomon when he wrote Ecclesiastes…”Everything is meaningless!” I was beginning to walk away from writing and I definitely abandoned the notion that the world would ever hear the things that I have wrote. However, God reminded me who He created by having me look at all of my creative journals. I found my first book of poems I wrote when I was around six years old. Then, I began reading and watching how my writing has evolved drastically throughout the years. In this moment I realized something that may sound vain to you but was something I needed to be reminded of: I am gifted. I am a writer, and I really do love words. It’s hard work creating and growing as an artist. A dream job is far from dreamy. But I really do love writing, and God would not call me back to something for 19 years (from age 6 to 25) if He did not want to use that. Also, I must choose to believe the world would benefit from hearing what I have to say. If I don’t walk in that truth, it would feel pointless to continue writing and striving to get better. Now, that I know these things and I confess these things and I choose to believe these things, I must act like it.

So, world, listen up:

I have something to say. 

 

 

 

Untitled-2/6/2018

I have lived a short 25 years, and life has been anything but easy. It feels like so many things have been thrown at me to try to break me. But this is the first time I have felt truly broken. My heart is shattered in a million pieces, and, if I am honest, I am terrified it will never heal again.

Everything I do reminds me of you. Every song I hear with live instruments makes me want to text you about it. Every new art project makes me want to tell you about it. Everytime I see a cool new gadget I think about how you would love to read about it.

To my almost step father, in you I found a home. A place I could feel safe. You showed me it’s okay to be myself and have long talks about stuff that matter. You taught me this by listening when I spoke and giving meaningful responses. You talked to me, not as an adult speaking to a child, but a wise mind speaking to an old soul.

I understand why people wear black when they mourn, because it’s the only color I feel comfortable in these days.

I don’t want to compose poetry anymore, write stories anymore, shoot films anymore. I don’t create anymore. Truthfully, I don’t want to do anything, but I know you wouldn’t want me to stop living. That is the complete opposite of what you stood for. So, as a small step towards doing things again, I will write you letters while God heals my broken soul.

Love,

Your almost step daughter

 

To The Guys Who Call Me Great But Treat Me Like I’m Average.

I’m breaking up with you. 

All of you.

The friends. The family. The potential lovers. I am done with you. 

I will no longer allow you to use me emotionally. I will not be your support system and listening ear. I will not answer every time you call, nor will I be prompt in my responses to your texts. I am not your filler.

I will not fill in the time while you wait for someone else. I will not fill in the gaps when your friends have abandoned you. I will not be there when you are in a low place in life. 

Why?

Because I know what happens next. 

You leave.

For the gazzillionth time, I have watched someone I poured so much into love someone else. I watched them give me the bare minimum of what I deserved only to give someone new the world. Do you know what that does to a person? 

Well, I’m not going to be used anymore. I am leaving you. And I am not going to tell you why, so I hope you read this post. You, none of you, deserve a last conversation from me. You don’t deserve what you never gave. I am moving on. 

Why?

Because I am a great woman, friend, and family member. I am a phenomenal woman, and I don’t have to wait for anyone to tell me that anymore. I am beautiful. And one day, a man is going to look at me with stars in his eyes. He is going to be left speechless when I walk into the room, and he is going to spend the rest of his life pouring love into me. One day, I will be treated like I am great. But today? You? Your words? They mean nothing to me. 

Do you know how it feels to be called great then treated like you’re average? I do. 

And this is me finally standing up for myself. Finally demanding what God told me was mine. Finally stepping out of the settle box and learning to wait for what I deserve. I don’t need your compliments nor do I need your attention. I need the space to spread my wings and fly into my destiny. 

I forgive you. But I’m done with you. 

Exodus

I’m in the part of my journey no one will clap for; I am experiencing a wide range of emotions that no one will notice. When my shoulders slump over and my head droops, no one seems to care.

It’s an internal conflict.

I have been arguing with God lately. Not the most devout thing I have written, but ya’ll don’t expect that from me anyways. I have given him attitude and I have folded my arms in protest. He has been speaking…A LOT. Unfortunately, He hasn’t been saying things I have wanted to hear.

Yes, He still speaks life and speaks of a glorious future to come, but now, as I begin the journey, he is bringing me to the edge of the promise land. He is showing me the giants and telling me He won’t remove them all at once, but slowly. [Deuteronomy 7:22]

He is giving me a speech that I will indeed inherit the land, but my mind grows suspicious when he repeats the phrase “Be strong and courageous.” [Joshua 1:6-9]

What is happening Jesus?

I told God that I wanted to live at an optimum level inside of His will. I want to reach my fullest potential. I don’t want anything that He wanted me to accomplish to go unattended to at my funeral. I want to see all He wants me to see. I want to do all He wants me to do. I want to sacrifice, and love, and be successful. I want to be successful!! I want to experience all the promises spoken over my life before I was even born. I want to experience financial freedom. I want to minister to people I will never meet through my writing. I WANT THE DESIRES OF MY HEART.

And I went through a celebratory moment when God said, “Okay. It is done.” When He woke me in the middle of the night to tell me He loves me. When He repeated promises I had forgotten about. When He said it all belongs to me and this is the time everything will begin to shift into place.

But now, (excuse my french) I’m mad as hell. Because now, I find myself on the run. I find myself hiding in caves. I find myself being hunted down by the people I trusted most. I find myself alone. I find myself in a constant state of battle. [The entire life of David]

God, this feels like war.

The words I hear God saying now are “Life is hard,” “This will be tough, but I will get you through,” “Hard work is not a bad thing.” (yes God had to remind me that hard work won’t kill me). But I am yelling “GOD TAKE AWAY THESE THORNS!” The crown I longed for is starting to feel more like a punishment. I am now barely grasping how much courage it had to take Jesus to pray for God’s will to be done in the garden as I find myself struggling to say the same. [Luke 22:42]

This is the part no one claps for, no one notices.

When God delivered the Israelites out of slavery, they didn’t know they were going into war. Stop judging them. Their journey was a tough one. No one claps for them in Exodus, but what they experienced was real. It was hard. It was an everyday battle. The life I’m living is real. It’s hard. Its an everyday battle. However unlike the Israelites, I will not run from the land of giants.

I’m going to take what already belongs to me.

I’m ready to fight, are you?