Thoughts from Beneath the Mountain of Papers
Posted by triciaandersen
I’ve been MIA from a lot right now. I am trying to type Black Irish 2 (currently working title). I’ve learned one thing from this. If I insist on writing my stories out long hand – type them right away.
I saw this tweet the other day and it made me think:
“If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you… You’ll be a man, my son.” RIPThatcher
— Wade Barrett (@WadeBarrett) April 8, 2013
There are so many times in this new journey of mine that I doubt myself. There are many times I feel alone. From what I’ve read from other writers I am not alone. I am truly blessed to have a husband, parents and children who are in my corner cheering for me. I know there are writers out there that do not have the support system I do. If I truly succeed at this, if I win awards, if I become a best seller it will be because of them that I got there.
Today I Googled the quote and found it is part of the beautiful poem by Rudyard Kipling named If. It’s something I’m going to print and hold onto on those days that things seem impossible and I don’t think I know what I’m doing – just to remind myself that the first person who should belive in me is me.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
About triciaandersenI am the author and illustrator of the children's book "The Peculiar Princess". I am also the author of two adult fantasy romance novels, "The Sorceress of Savon" and "The Woodcutter King of Muladin". Along with being an author I am married to a wonderful guy and have three beautiful children. I coach youth track and field, sew and chase my children around to their various activities.
Posted on April 11, 2013, in author, books, fiction, novel, romance, story, Uncategorized, writing and tagged Black Irish, book, children, dad, dream, fiction, husband, kids, love, mom, parents, poem, romance, Rudyard Kipling, Twitter, Wade Barrett. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.