We’re not going to bore you by moaning about what crappy lives we’ve had – trust us, they’ve been crappy – because this isn’t The Jeremy Kyle Show. We wouldn’t get invited on there anyway – we’re not Chavs who have no idea who the baby’s daddy is. Anyhoo, we wear our scars with pride because they show we’ve survived. And no matter how bad it’s got, how much into the darkness we’ve gone, there’s always been one thing that’s kept us sane. Relatively sane. Fine, out of the asylums. One thing that’s helped us to escape the torment of our minds and turn our Darkshines into a creative place where for that brief moment, the pain goes away. It’s our writing. Our writing is the only part of us we’ve ever believed in. The only part we’ve ever truly liked. Even when we got nothing but rejections we always had the belief one day we’d make it. That our writing was good enough. It was just a matter of time. Someone who would see in it what we did. Wow. It’s a lot like our dating history. No wait, that’s worse. We’ve at least got stories published. But we never gave up. Never stopped writing. Never lost faith.
And we don’t know if it will ever come back.
We write all day, every day. We don’t take days off, we don’t have holidays. We love it. To most people a job is just a job. Not to us. Writing isn’t what we do, it’s what we ARE. We’re so entwined with it that without it, we have nothing. We ARE nothing. We haven’t had an acceptance since…June. Since then it’s been nothing but rejection after rejection after rejection. Normally we shrug, note it down then send the story somewhere else. But now…we no longer believe in our work. What if all along, they were right? What if their ‘I enjoyed reading it but it’s not right for us and we hope you keep writing’ was just a polite way of saying ‘you’re crap now fuck off and stop wasting our time when we could be reading stuff by talented people.’ We’re still desperate to succeed. We just don’t think we will any more. We’re not good enough. Maybe we never were. And now we’ve lost faith in the only thing we ever believed in. We use self deprecating humour all the time, we love it, it’s who we are but we’ve never mocked our writing. We’ve never slated it, never hated it. Just continued writing, waiting for that day when someone says ‘you were right. You’re geniuses.’ Ok they’d never say that but we can dream. We can quote the authors who’ve been rejected countless times. Stephen King could paper his walls with his rejections. Gone with the Wind was rejected nearly 40 times. Lord of the Flies was rejected 20 times. We know the saying “the only difference between published writers and non published writers is non published ones give up’ and we’ve always felt there’s a terrible tragedy of those who give up their dreams and go and have normal jobs. But what if there comes a time when you have to realise you’re not going to make it? That your dreams are just fantasies that will never become reality?
Where our believe was is now a big black hole of nothing.
In Criminal Minds Spencer Reid said “sometimes, for an artist, the only difference between insanity and genius, is success.”