It’s the first Wednesday of the month, time for another post in the Insecure Writer’s Support Group with the amazing Alex J. Cavanaugh, and his co-hosts for February, Stephen Tremp and Julie Flanders. Alex created this group to allow us writers a way to release our fears to the world – or offer encouragement to those who are feeling neurotic. We post the first Wednesday of every month. If you’d like to join us, click on the title above and sign up. Even if you don't want to join us, feel free to visit a few blogs from the list, and leave a comment. Your words might be just the encouragement an insecure writer needs.
Like most authors I have spent countless hours, days, weeks and years, with her. Cajoling and coaxing her to life. Listening to her problems and fears. Transforming her from an idea in my head to (what I hope is) a full-fledged character alive within the pages of my book. After all this blood, sweat, and tears, to say I love her is an understatement. The question is, will the readers love her?
Will they think her funny and witty as I do? Will they worry about her and feel the need to keep turning the page? Will they feel her discomfort and root for her all the way to the bitter end? Will they love her to the depth and breadth and height their (my) soul can reach. Will they love her with their (my) childhood's faith? Will they love her with the breath, smiles, tears of all their (my) life? Will they love her like I do?
I don't proclaim to posses any of the talent of Ms. Browning. I just hope that I have created a character that can generate a smidgen of the love with my audience as she has with hers.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How are you feeling this month?