Being an aspiring anything isn’t easy. It sounds unprofessional, apologetic and sometimes sketchy. It’s like announcing that you’re a hustler. Calling one’s self an aspiring, and in my case, novelist, is not only wearing your ambition on your sleeves, but letting the world know you’re a dreamer.
You know that old cliche about the waitress/actress? Well, that’s what being an aspiring novelist is comparable to. You’re just strumming along until you get your big break. When you go online, you quickly realize that everyone else is like you…an aspiring something waiting for his or her big break. They all think they have the next big story/idea. Some maybe on to something, and others may be far off the wall, which makes me wonder, which side can I fit into?
I can’t think too much into this and I won’t, but I just realize, I am an idea in a pool of ideas, and there’s no guarantee that I’ll be the next great idea.
We hear stories about people getting rejected all the time, and stories about people getting an agent/editor on their first attempt. Somewhere in-between are the aspiring wannabes, if I may call them this.
It’s a bittersweet wait with no end in sight.