Well, here I am again...'burning the midnight oil,' because my kiddies are asleep in my bed, again, and my hubby's snoring. Not that I mind, I enjoy the peace and quiet. A lovely, warm blankie tucked around my legs, like a faithful friend, my cuddly kitty purring next to me, and the kitchen clock ticking out it's constant, contented rythm. There's something magical about those sacred hours, when the kids are in the land of nod, and the hubby is peaceful, blissfully away from the demands of work, contractors, difficult boss...you get the picture.
Earlier today, when Rebecca was in floods of tears (again), because Gabriella had gone to a 'sweetie paradise' party, and she didn't, I pounced on her and told her it was a good opportunity to vent her feelings about diabetes. I managed to convince her for all of five seconds! It's the little quivering lip that got to me, bless her. My heart breaks when she's like that, as I am so at a loss for words to comfort her. That's when I do lots of praying. Only God can help in moments like that. Anyway, she said she wasn't feeling well, so lay down on my bed with some warm milk. I have just been paid by my reluctant 'prodigal' client, so she looked like the cat that got the cream, as I can now buy her the long awaited pair of trendy black boots to go, with her striped stockings and mini skirt! Oh dear, what have I done? Created a rod for my own back maybe?
I decided tonight, I would talk about rejection. Yes, it's an ominous, ugly word isn't it? I can even imagine what it looks like. Something out of 'Lord of the Rings'...big hairy, with large teeth and really bad halitosis. You get the picture, right?
The reason I thought I'd raise this awkward topic, is because let's face it, we all have rounds in the boxing ring with him don't we? We spend hours covering the black eye and thick lip with make-up. When our caring friends ask how we are, we squeak fine, thank you very much! But, get real, we all struggle with it and we all pretend we don't. Why, I ask myself. Simple really, because we all wrongly assume that no decent, content, happy woman could possibly have a hard time with something so trivial as rejection! We also wrongly think, that noone else has this dreaded disease. And....worst thing of all, we all side step each other, afraid senseless, we might get infected. Like it's swine flu or something contagious!
But, hey I've decided to come out of the closet in full drag queen regalia. The wig, stilletos and tatty T-Shirt that screams...'I struggle with rejection...so shoot me...or if you feel sorry for me and can relate, feed me lots of chocolate.' I'm not going to give you a long, drawn out sob story about a terrible childhood, growing up with only one pair of shoes and eating coal for breakfast, much as it is tempting as it makes a great story. Almost like Oliver Twist, and I do like that story so much. Cried my eyes out, the first time I saw it.
No, all I'm going to talk about is a childhood full of unmet needs, and ridiculously high expectations. A distant, cold father I adored, who was rejected himself. Stiff upper lip British background, no wonder! And he, as a result rejected both myself, my sweet little sister and protective big brother. I grew up feeling invisible, just like those little dust specs in 'Horton Has a Who!' I had an 'Oprah moment,' when I saw that movie. What does she call it, an 'ephipany?' Yes, that's it. I had a large dollop of ephipany for breakfast. Suddenly, I thought I know how you feel little one. I can hear you, let me help you. Have you ever felt like that? To cut a long, dramatic, tear-jerking story short, I'll try to wrap it up into a synopsis style nutshell. I tried really hard to impress my Dad and even my brother, who was my mentor and hero. He in turn tried to impress my Dad, as did my little sister and so the circle turned. All of us vainly trying to impress, getting nowhere, batting off the critical comments. Pretending not to care, whilst bleeding inside. Trying to be strong for each other...I desperately tried to protect my little sister, wasn't very effective. Words have a way of penetrating the soul, like nothing else can. So hey presto, we all grew up into fine, upstanding citizens, paying tax, honouring bills, feeding the cat and our children, that sort of thing...but, oh so very sensitive to the ugly monster REJECTION!
I did a round in the ring twice this week. The first time was when the annoying client ditched me, and then apologised. I spent a day lamenting before God about that one. Almost had the sackcloth and knashing teeth thing down to a fine art! Why didn't they like my design? Aren't I good enough? Am I a 'has been...past my 'sell by date?' They said the other designer was a 'heavy weight,' with fifteen years experience. Whilst I was in my dark, little corner licking my wounds, it suddenly occured to me. An epiphany appeared to me in woman's clothing and say 'hold on...rewind! You too, my dear are 'heavy weight,' and have fifteen years experience in design. Now, get up out of your misery, put on those boxing gloves and as soon as you've thumped 'rejection' good and hard...when he's on the ground gasping for breath, tell him you forgive him. Then walk out of the ring with your head held high, and politely leave behind a fresh, invigorating dose of 'heaped coals on his head.'
So, I did exactly that, and then sat down and wrote another chapter of my novel, 'Crimson As The Sun.' Now, some of you are aware that this is my 'baby of all babies.' I have been in labour with this baby, for going on ten years now. So I'm tired, dog tired in fact, grumpy, sensitive and desperate for acceptance. When this baby is finally delivered with a nicely designed cover, hardcover, well edited...there will be an almight yell from the rooftops! Everytime, I finish a chapter, I post it onto the Fanstory website for reviewing and editing purposes. I can honestly thank my family and fans on that site, for the growth I have experienced during the last few months. Some of them, are very high calibre, published authors with years of experience. They have patiently encouraged, stretched, criticised, edited my writing, scolded and inspired me.
The latest chapter of my book outlines the hero's state of mind after the grenade attack. The poor guy was blown up, almost died, in a coma for ten days, has now woken up, can't remember and....worst of all has had lis leg amputed. Now, you get he's going to be in a really, really bad mood. Depressed even! I have done alot of research into Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and as this falls under the 'mental illness' diagnosis, part of Jack's treatment is to start therapy with a psychologist. So, it was not an easy chapter to write, as I had to get into the head of this tormented man, try to find out what makes him tick during such a traumatic time, and get into the head of the Doc too. Not an easy task, but I'm up for the challenge. Any writer worth his weight in gold, has to be thick skinned and be sure the character descriptions and dialogue are authentic and believable. Most of all, a writer must be prepared to do more than one round in the ring with the biggest heavy weight of all, REJECTION!
I've now earned my stripes, as I am pleased to say I did my round today. I received a total of seven reviews on that chapter, and whilst I usually receive five star ratings, five out of the seven this time were four star ratings. Now, how do I read that. NOT GOOD ENOUGH! That same epiphany drag queen angel shows up and starts wagging his bony, nail polished finger at me. At first I think, HOW DARE HE? But, after awhile I start to think...hang on, maybe he's right. I think do the whole character annihilation thing. Beat myself up a few times, berate myself for not checking the spelling, grammer, character authenticity, or the narrative enough. But, thankfully, I come full circle. I pull on those gloves and go for it. Once I've finished punching the lights out of REJECTION, I do my little victory dance and then sit down to edit, rewrite, restructure and tidy up my work. It's a bit like wiping your face with a towel and tidying up after a good workout. I then systematically thank all my faithful fans and mentors for taking the time to help me grow, see my mistakes and lend a hand in the stretching process. I also realise, they were not in fact being critical, rude or hurtful. They are also frightened of REJECTION, have already walked the path and are now proudly boasting their well earned stripes.
I'm certainly not there yet, but one thing I am sure of, is I'm on my way to earning the sacred 'holy grail of worthiness.' I feel vulnerable, afraid, alone and out on a limb, like a cold, shivering little Eaglet about to throw herself head first out of the warm, safe nest. But, one thing I know for sure, when she does jump she will not only fly, she'll soar. Reason being, the Father Eagle circles the sky, waiting for his eaglets to jump.
The challenge I have for you dear friend...is are you brave enough to do two simple things? And, they really are simple, if you try not to dissect them too much. Are you prepared to root out REJECTION once and for all? I hope so, as you need to get through step one, before you move onto step two. If you have conquered rejection, you are ready to jump...and dream. Way out there, in the great beyond where the Great Eagle will fly with you...exists your very own tailor made dream. It is the vision God breathed into you at conception. You may not know what it is yet, but trust me, He knows...and is desperately waiting for you to simply ask Him!
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