A Life's Journey…River of Tears
I didn't. It wasn't.
It felt rushed and I felt as if I had
cheated those characters out of their story. They had something important
to say and I had the nerve to rush them just to meet a deadline for
a contest. It wasn't as if there weren't any other contests running
around, it wasn't as if this was the last contest that was going to
be offered.
It was however the first time I had
ever considered sharing my work with anyone and I was scared. I was
scared because I knew that wasn't the best I could do. I knew I cheated
my characters, myself and potential readers out of a good, no, a great
story all because I rushed. I ran out of time.
A few days after I submitted the story
I received an email from the person who was in charge. He asked if I
wouldn't mind sharing the book on his website, at which time they would
offer the book to readers for I believe a sum of $5.00, giving them
the first chapter for free. I, being naïve and still very nervous allowed
him to post it. He said he read it and liked it.
I had my doubts even then. I think
I told a few people about it but silently berated myself for even entering
the contest to begin with. I swallowed back my disappointment in myself
and threw myself in Behind Blue Eyes once again. I was determined that
I would never allow myself to cheat a story like that again.
I think a few weeks passed and I still
had a nagging voice in my head yelling at me to fix it. I would wake
up at the oddest hours with thoughts of I should have done this or I
should have added that. It would have been better if only.
If only is not something a writer wants
to think once a story has ended. They want to say: I gave it the best
I had and I'm moving on now with positive thoughts to give myself fully
to my next story. Yeah, notsomuch on my end.
I set Behind Blue Eyes on the back
burner. Again.
I printed River of Tears and grabbed
a red pen. I grabbed a big bottle of water and sat my rear on a patio
chair. And I read as a reader with suggestions to the author. I went
thru each page and I marked it and marked it. I had pages and pages
of red marks and writing. I even used a notebook to rewrite what I thought
the author should have done in the first place. (Remember, I was playing
reader here, not the actual author)
Voting for the best stories was to
be done by February 15th and we were coming on the deadline.
I was a wreck. I looked at the red marks and knew that the story, as
it was, would never win. I needed another chance to change that story.
February 20th appeared and
still I hadn't heard anything, I was almost grateful. I was hoping the
contest was canceled. Unfortunately it wasn't, however they did extend
it to draw more contestants, and the new deadline was now March 15th.
I kept reading that story, kept making
notes to the author, and ignored that contest. All I did know was that
I owed these characters and I would not let them down again. Even if
the revised version never saw the light of day, I was giving them what
they wanted. I was giving myself another chance. I was going to give
that story the best I had to give it.
I took the suggestions that the reader
in me had and I went back to the computer, pulled River of Tears up,
and began. I worked for hours and hours, for days and weeks until I
finally said: This is it. This is what it should have been all along.
March 15th came and all
the contestants received a- Dear John letter. The contest was canceled!
I finally found my smile.
River of Tears, which had been locked
up in that contest since January and out of my control, was once again
MINE. I once again had complete control over MY story! I promised it
once I typed that last revised line that it would, no, that they would
(my characters) get the opportunity that I almost cheated them out of.
The thing is, I lost complete control
over my own story for three long months. I lost the ability to have
any sort of say so over what would happen to it. I learned a lot during
that time as I had been doing some research on publishing. I looked
at agents, publishing houses and the more I read, the more determined
I became to do things my way. I took a whole different route this time.
My story was as good as I could get
it. I was ready to share it for real this time. I was proud of it and
I wanted people to read this story. I had a smile that warmed my heart.
I did the best I could do. It was time to do something about it.