I've been chatting to some other Mum writers, and I have completed a non official survey. In other words I asked a couple of nosy questions.
Q. Do our significant others read our work?
A. Well, maybe, if it's flash fiction or if we read it to them.
Q. Do they understand or are they interested in the difficulties in gaining a publishing contract?
Q. Are they supportive?
A. Yes, in a 'please don't ask me to read anything' way.
So you may be wondering where am I going with this strange rambling blog post?
The writers I conducted my 'non scientifically proven survey' on have heard comments similar to the ones below:
'I'll take the kids to the park, you write the best seller.'
'I don't think I want to move to Scotland and live in a castle like JK, I bet the broadband will be terrible.'
'First thing I'm going to do when you make it big is tell my boss where to go.'
It's nice, sort of.
It's supportive, I suppose.
Everyone would argee that it's great to have someone believing in you.
But....it does make one feel like a lottery ticket. And laughing aside, it does add a pinch of pressure to the proceedings. Plus a splash of guilt. (Most of us know that the big cheque may never, ever, arrive.)
Is it any wonder that the moment we have our chance to write we look for a job, sign up on the PTA, agreed to the sleep over? We sabotage ourselves.
Maybe I'm wrong?
"Mediocrity scares me. It's the fear of not being as good as you want to be. If you give over to that fear, it will sabotage you. As much as I can, I try to use that fear to guide me."