Who am I to do this anyway?

It's a question that I keep coming back to as an aspiring writer. Who am I to do this anyway? Is it arrogant to think that what I write and have to say would be read and enjoyed by others? Ever since I've taken the step to be on the other side of the book, the writing end, I've thought more about the authors of the books that I love and enjoy reading. Who are they? I read bios of authors with MFA's and impressive publishing histories and the ringing silence of my bio makes my gulp of dismay all the more audible. I don't have any of those things that make me instantly acceptable.

So what does that mean? Will I languish in the politely phrased world of being a pre-published author for years?

Maybe.

Or maybe the stars will align and everything will fall into place. Great stories, great writing, great agent, great editor, and great fans. Nathan Bransford, literary agent of my dreams and blogger extraordinare eloquently stated on June 4th, "It's time, basically, to look inside yourself and step up yer game." Well Nathan, your point was well taken. I know I have one of my "greats" and I'm diligently working on the rest.

There is one thing I do know. I love writing. It is the most fun I have during my day. I get a deep satisfaction of breathing life into my characters and revel in the challenge of refining their movements, making them real to others as well. And I do know one other thing. Everyone starts somewhere. And here I am. I am planting my flag at the base of this mountain known as The Publishing World. I have five more flags in my hand to plant as I go up the side.

Here I go. One word in front of the other.

Wish me luck.