Falling in love is a wonderful thing. You feel all flibberty-gibberty, think more things are funny, are convinced food tastes better, and all of a sudden the throngs of people out in the world, the ones you normally see as freeway lane hogging, latte line crashing, cell phone yelling boors are suddenly beautiful human beings - BECAUSE YOU'RE IN LOVE.
As writers we get to feel that way a lot. There's that oh so special moment when a spotlight shines down from the heavens onto your monitor and angel choirs sing your very favorite song as you read over your work in progress. This might be good you think, hardly daring to breathe. And then everything goes into soft focus. It IS good. It's fantastic.
And this is what you want to shout from the rooftops: I'm totally in love with Chapter seven!
Or Chapter 3 or 33 or whatever.
But here's the deal with love. You need to put your heart out there to feel it. Sometimes that works out, I know it does - I've seen all the Meg Ryan movies.
But sometimes all putting your heart out there does is place it directly in the path of an oncoming steamroller. Ouch.
That glorious chapter you brought to writers' group or submitted to an editor? What happens if they're not feeling the love at all? What if their response is to dump it, dump it right now and run away as fast as the wind?
A normal reaction to such a scenario is to feel your heart breaking into teeny tiny pieces as you reread your beloved. They just have to be wrong, you think wildly. Can't they see how wonderful this is, how much I desperately adore it?
But then you sleep on it. And the next morning, in the harsh light of day, maybe you have a "Maggie May" moment. Maybe then you do see the warts and the halitosis and the bad toupee of that formally oh, so glamorous piece of writing.
You piece your heart back together with chewing gum and old 32 cent stamps and then dump it, dump it right then and run away as fast as the wind, all the while thankful that you received the feedback.
And then you start writing again, this time seeing your work for what it is, not for what you delude yourself into thinking that it is. That is until the next time...
you fall in love.