Tuesday, October 9, 2012

“My writing I do for me! “

     When I was at the MT RWA Writer’s conference I was asked, “What made you want to be a writer?”   That was an easy question for me to answer.  When I was very young my alcoholic parents used to fight a lot. I would crawl into bed with my four siblings and then dream a story in my head – so the fighting would go away.  That was my earliest experiences of creating stories.  Books are movies in our heads that we bring to life on paper/computer as we type.
     My stories took me away from all the bad things going on around me . . . and they continued to talk to me as I grew up.  My first works were children’s stories and after my first two, I found out the market at the time was totally saturated.  They were buying books for ten years ahead!  Yikes.  So I penned my first teen book and quickly realized– that just wasn’t the genre’ for me!
     A dear friend of mine, international best-selling author, Kat Martin, said, “Write what you love to read.”  That happened to be the best advice I’d received as an aspiring writer.  One I share as often as I can – in hopes it will help others.  I loved, and still love to read Indian historicals.  My first book published was Indian historical, Whispering Sun.  I wrote that book because Kat inspired me to write it!  How blessed did I get? - -By the way - - if you haven’t read Kat Martin … you MUST!  Check her out online! http://www.katbooks.com/
     Another question I was asked several times at the conference, “Have you ever thought of quitting – and not write another book?”  Oh, boy, that is a loaded question.  I had to answer, “Yes.”  But then my husband set me straight. He asked me, “Will you be happy if you stop writing?”  I knew the answer without thinking – Of course not. Writing is a part of me…it’s who I am.
     Writing is something that drives you.  It robs you of your own free will - - because you can’t stop the stories from coming.  It’s inevitable – for me anyway – that while I’m writing a book – my next book will start forming and try to steal the keyboard.  I have to jot down ideas and sentences just to make it leave me alone!
     I work a full-time job… and the demands of a family, husband, and all that goes with it … so I must fit my writing into my evenings and weekends… I set my goals and work as hard as I can to honor my schedule.  When getting tired and frustrated – like anyone else … I ask myself, “Why am I doing this?  Why am I working so hard to write? I could be relaxing watching TV or making jewelry… or ….etc.”  I would call my sister, Diane, and she would ask me this most important question.  “Who do you write for?”
     You see . . . I do everything for my family … my husband… my work . . . but guess what … my writing I do for me!  It’s the one thing that is all about me.  It’s my passion . . . it’s my drive . . . it’s my space. No one can change it or do it for me.  No one can stop me from writing . . . except me. 
     I won’t quit – because I can’t quit.  The stories keep haunting me to write them.  It’s like my Tango Of Death  story – it haunted me for ten years to write it . . . and it exploded into a trilogy; Gypsy Spirit, Partisan Heart and Jewish Soul. 
     I love to read and I love to write! I would suspect I’ll be doing both until the day I die.


Caroline Clemmons said...

Ginger, what a great post...and you captured why we write perfectly. I was puny as a child and made up stories to entertain myself. Now, I still make up stories to entertain myself. The difference is that I hope these stories also entertain others. Like you, I just can't stop.

Unknown said...

As much as I'd like to take credit for this awesome post...this was done by my blogging partner Rita who has been carrying the load while I swallow in self-pity. She did hit the nail on the head, didn't she.

Joan Hall Hovey said...

Well said, Ginger. We have much in common. -:)


Unknown said...

Nice Rita! Spoken by a heart of dedication and acknowledgement in knowing your true self. Great article and hubby sounds like a keeper as well. LOL. Of course, having a dear friend like Kat Martin is added strength if following this crazy path.

Rita Karnopp said...

Caroline - I know why you thought this was Ginger...because she always speaks to us from the heart. I'm touched that you have had the same experiences as me. I so relate about hoping your stories entertain others... that's why I often say, "Let me take you away." Like you... I just can't stop either. Thank you for sharing.

Maryannwrites said...

Terrific post. I think you spoke for all of us in explaining why you write.

Rita Karnopp said...

Dear friend ... I miss you ... you are in my thoughts and prayers. Get well ... get the house back in shape .. and we look forward to having you back with us real soon! Hugs & kisses your way...Rita

Rita Karnopp said...

Thank you, Karen. Yes... I often think -- if life had been easy as a child - I might not have known the power of stories that take me from my sadness and situation. It's my greatest hope that my stories 'take the reader away' into another place - where nothing else exists ... but the story I'm weaving.

Hubby is a keeper - he's always supported my passion for writing. And, I must admit, I think he's very proud of my accomplishments. He often says, "I can't write a paragraph - 500 pages .. egads, I sweat thinking about it!"

Oh .. and yes, Kat Martin is such a sweetheart . . . she's a great writer - but an even greater friend. I feel so blessed.

Rita Karnopp said...

Thank you, Maryann. I often think I must share things that will help others become better writers. When I speak from the heart - it seems others relate. Thank you ... it's comforting to know you understand me. :) Rita

Rita Karnopp said...

Joan ... thank you ... even though you though I was Ginger. It's funny - us writers do understand each other - and we have so much in common . . . maybe that's what makes us good writers. We feel it ... we take time to understand it . . .we sense the wrong and right of it . . . and we care about it. Thank you for connecting . . . Rita

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