Insecurities

Yeah…I know. I spend most of my time online talking about writing or my books. But I get insecure just like anyone else, especially after I get a 1 star review. Those are the worst. :/ Those are the days where I just want to curl up into a ball and eat nothing but chocolate all day…even if future me will pay a high price for that the next day. I don’t do that. I just smile and keep on keeping on.

Anyway my dad was in town this past week and we were talking about a million things, like we normally do. Then the topic of the grant came up. In the state of DE there’s a grant for artists. It basically covers everything from writing to photography. I was going to throw my hat in for the writing grant and thought against it at the last minute because I felt insecure the moment the application asked for an artist statement. I’ve never done grant or technical writing in my life. I’m a novelist. I can take you on an adventure to another world! In space! Anywhere! Just don’t ask me to write about myself or what my philosophies are!

Have pen. Must write.
The End.

The shortest artist statement in the universe. LOL

My dad was shocked that I wasn’t going to turn in my application. I told him that there were hundreds of other writers that were much better than me and that I probably wouldn’t win anyway so why bother. <— see that? Self deprecating? Negative? Self defeat? I’m an expert at that. After I gave him all my lame ass reasons he stood up to his full height and said, “Elizabeth Francheska DeJesus, you have just as good a chance as anyone to win. And if you don’t? So what? At least you tried. Promise me you’ll at least try.”

When a parent uses your full name in a sentence (it doesn’t matter how old you are) you smile, nod and agree and do what your father tells you to do. Even though the thought of clicking the SEND button makes you wanna throw up a little.

So we sat down and tried to put together an artist statement. There was a lot of scribbling in my notebook and finally I closed it and set it aside to deal with in the cold light of day. I got online, and typed my little statement in the little application box and literally burst into tears. I didn’t go to college, I don’t have an MFA in writing or any type of education for that matter, save for a few credits at Del Tech (local community college) and I dropped out because I was so bored (spent most of my time in class writing, how’s that for a sign). English isn’t even technically my first language for cryin’ out loud. I don’t write beautiful literary novels that change people’s way of thinking. I think about all the things I’m not and it was overwhelming. But…after I stopped crying, I thought about all the things I am.

Creative. Hard working. Determined.

If my father hadn’t made me do it I’m sure another year would’ve passed by without me having put my application in. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted this. So fingers crossed….we’ll see what happens. If I do win you should know that I will celebrate by getting drunk and eating lots of chocolate. 😉

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