Trials and Tribulations of a Writer

In 2005, I was downsized from a career in education. The campus where I worked for many years chose to move to a different state. Since my husband had a good job, making much more than I did the decision to remain in South Carolina was an easy one. And so, when my position downsized, I closed the window, locked it, gave my key to the office back, locked my heart away and walked away with a sigh of relief. June 2005, I kissed Corporate America goodbye, and I haven't looked back. I believe in the philosophy of 'when a door closes, God opens a window.'







My friends were concerned. Just what would Barbie P. Cooper do without a life where she worked morning, noon and night (including weekends) recruiting, administering and working my fingers to death to recruit and service college students. It is true, I was married to that position and in 2005, I chose to divorce it, close the door and pray that God would open a window to a new career as a travel writer.







I read reports stating that I should have at least three years of $$ stashed away, to survive. I laughed, while my fingers shook with fear. My husband thought I was nuts. On one occasion he suggested I needed to find another job because I had nothing promised or committed in my writing career. To those of you who do not know me, let's just say, I can be very stubborn, independent and persistent. I sent queries to publications, marketing my writing services and story angles. At times, I stood by the mail box, tapping my toes impatiently, in hopes that today a letter would arrive and I would become the next successful writer.







DREAM ON.







Nevertheless, I have taught myself self discipline and I work extremely hard to market, and publicize to get my name in print. Success isn't something that happens overnight.







Flash Forward to 2009







It has been four years of pulling my hair out, screaming my lungs out on the highest mountain (and there aren't any mountains in my home in Mt. Pleasant, SC) talking to my pups and doubting, but I believe that 'good things come to those who wait.'







Now friends encourage me, recognizing that this year appears to be the year that I might achieve a few of the goals established. I made a promise to myself that this would be the year, or this time, if I didn't succeed, I would definitely throw in the towel and find something else to do. Maybe I will spend more time on the beach, in hopes I will find a "Message in a bottle."







Years ago, when I was in college, an English professor wanted to know if anyone in his class thought, or wanted, to be a writer. Silly, gullible me! Always wanting to be the center of attention, I raised my hand. The professor reminded me of a George Carlin look alike, complete with graying hair, emaciated body frame, and stress filled, swollen eyes. He approached me.







"So, it is you who wants to be a writer."







"Yes," I replied. My heart was slowly crawling down into my toe nails. "I am a writer. I published my first story in the third grade of elementary school."







Intrigued by my reaction, the professor turned to the class. "Did you hear her, class. She published her first story in kindergarten." He smirked, rubbing his bushy beard.







"Third grade," I interrupted.







He laughed. "So, Ms. Cooper --- tell me --- do you love to write?"







"Ms. Perkins-Cooper," I spat. "You may call me Barbie, and to answer your question, yes, I love to write. It's my passion."







Within seconds I regretted my response.







"Oh class. Just listen. She loves to write. It is her passion, and her name is Barbie.... Humph! You are not a writer. Real writers HATE TO WRITE."







Defeated, I chose to hang my head and slide under my chair, hoping and praying the George Carlin wanna be would pick on someone else.







Now, years and many rejections later, I understand what the professor was teaching me, and I must say, he is right. True writers HATE to WRITE.







To those of you new to the industry, writing is an arduous task and there are many days where I would love to surf on the computer, play games, and feed my addiction to e-mail. It is so true. Writers hate to write -- especially when the words refuse to enter the brain, or when we struggle to send out queries, market our talents and work on assignments. Previously, when this happened, I would bite my fingernails, gnawing each manicured acrylic beauty until they were chipped and ugly. I would stare out the window, and when Shamus and Shakespeare tapped my foot for attention, I ignored them. Now, I have learned the art of inspiration and motivation. When stressed, I take a break. Grabbing the leashes, I prepare the dogs for a walk, while thoughts dance inside my head. Breathing in the sea breezes and fresh aromatic senses of the world outside, I am able to work out the hooks, characters and stories. Arriving home, I rush to the computer while my fingers dance a finger ballet across the keyboard.





Working as a travel writer, I am able to see and appreciate the beauty of life, characters, and the products of the struggles of life. I have stayed at some of the finest hotels and bed and breakfast inns along the East and Gulf coast. I suppose you could say I am living my dream now -- a dream that took me years to fulfill, but like all things in life, good things come to those who wait.





If you have a passion for writing, don't just dream about it. Like the Nike slogan says, "Just do it." There will be times of self doubt and defeat, but when this happens, dust yourself off, smile your biggest, most welcoming smile and whisper, "This too shall pass." Life is not easy. It is how we choose to believe in ourselves and our self worth that help to develop us into the person we want to become. We can choose to give up, defeated, or we can take one step forward, continuing the journey. Life is an adventure. Just do it!