Amazed

Romance fiction truly amazes me.

Not only that actual writing, but also this entire sub-culture that exists around it.

The stats on the Romance Writer's of America's website alone are staggering:

1.2 Billion dollars in sales EACH YEAR

54.9% of all mass market fiction sold

39.3% of ALL fiction sold

And the fact that there are even IS a Romance Writer's of America Association (9500 strong), seems incredible to me.

They have their own awards (the RITA's, the Golden Heart, the Romantic Times Book Review), their own international conferences, and a whole world-wide fan base.

AND there is a Toronto chapter (Toronto Romance Writers), with published authors...well, I'm just truly stunned.

I had no idea.

There are publishers, and classes EVERYWHERE, which I'm assuming also means that there are AUTHORS everywhere, and everyone has a manuscript in their pocket.

I have already been in contact with one member of Toronto Romance Writers, who was very helpful, and all I can say is, I think I've chosen the right new path for myself.

As you've all no doubt discovered from my Blogbits, I LOVE communicating through the written word. I think it allows me to finally express myself in the way I've always wanted to.
I get the chance to consider WHAT I'm going to say, and HOW I'm going to say it.

I think I'm far funnier when I write than when I speak.

I guess it's because of all those years, alone in my room, typing my heart out on my electric typerwriter. That's how I first expressed all that STUFF that I didn't even know existed.

(Of course, when I go back and read some of that stuff now, I'm HORRIFIED by what I see: pages and pages of my issues and crap, all OVER the place.)

Now that I get to consciously write about all the stuff that's going on in my head, it feels so good to connect to it, own it, and then send it out into the world, where, hopefully, it will do someone else some good too.

Even if it's just to entertain someone, and take them away from the hum-drum of their own lives for a few hours, I know that I will have finally done something with my life that isn't completely motivated by selfish reasons. (Although, admittedly, the paycheck will feel AWESOME!)

This all goes back to a therapy session I had about 5 years ago, during which I had an epiphany.

I was complaining about the state of my life, and my therapist asked, point blank, "well, what DO you WANT from your life?"

And the answer came out of me so quickly, I knew it had to be true. I said: "I want my creativity to pay."

Even in that moment, I knew I had touched on something that was profound and that would change my life at some point.

You see, acting just never did that for me. It's very hard to be creative when no one will give you a job, and THEREFORE, you are UNABLE to be creative in that way. You sit around WAITING for the chance to create.

Well, let me tell you something, kittens:

I was DONE waiting.

Especially, since I knew, deep in the back of my mind, that I had an alternative.

True I couldn't paint, or take snappy photographs, or play and instrument, but I knew that I had something creative deep inside of me that was still untapped: I could express myself through the written word. I had written boxes full of stuff, as a kid, but writing had always come so naturally to me that I was unaware that there was anything special, or even remotely interesting about it.

But then, my dear friend Christopher, not too long ago, mentioned that he so looked forward to my emails, because not only did they let him know what I was up to, in my life, but that they were also entertaining, and that they always had a neat beginning, middle and end. With proper punctuation, if I do say so myself.

He even said: "You should think about writing."

That started the little grey cells ticking away.

Truthfully, I always knew that writing was kind of my absolute fall-back plan. If all else failed, I could always tell stories. I've been doing it all my life.

It was my Grade Two teacher who was so surprised by my desire to write stories and entertain the class with them, that he instructed my mother to "never stop this kid from being creative."

Bless her, she never did.

It was also my mother who was ALWAYS reading romance novels. "Sex, lust, and violence books" my Dad called them.

It was all around me really, wasn't it?

I guess, I just needed to open my eyes.

It's incredible how simple it all is when you just add it up, and let it be, isn't it?

It amazes me.

It truly amazes me.

J.J