Several things got me thinking about this post, one of them being Kristin Nelson's post the other day about mentors. I don't know that I'd call them mentors, but I have writer friends and they are invaluable to me.
My husband's wonderful, my family is wonderful, the lady next door is wonderful. But no one can understand a writer like another writer.
I spent a lot of time this morning e-mailing with some of my friends (cuz, Yanno, I've never actually met any of them in person. But I've seen pictures!!:)) offering support and sympathy, receiving the same in kind, giving and receiving advice, letting people know I care.
And they let me know that they care . . . even though they, uh, have never met me either. Ahh, the wonders of the Internet.
But it's fun to see people slowly slog through this world we call publishing. Where everything moved at the speed of glaciers and you wish they'd take a lesson from the cheetahs instead. A world fraught with rejection where almost nobody stops to pat your fragile ego. . . and when they do it's usually just to build you up for the inevitable rejection that comes next. Go figure.
It's like a battle field where you know most of you are going to die before reaching your goal, but you can't help but try anyway. All you can do is surround yourself with comrades who are holding big shields and hope that neither you nor they will fall short.
Doesn't it feel better to have those extra shields around you?
And doesn't it feel good to know that you are helping shield someone else too?