Ever notice how events and passages in our lives seem like horrible trials at the time, but as we gain distance and a different perception, they often turn out to be the gifts and blessings? I've already blogged here about how I believe not selling to a large house last year turned out to be the best thing for me, as I know I would have messed up the opportunity with everything going in my life then.
For various reasons, I spent the last ten months cursed with a crippling inability to write. I tried all the tricks to jump-start my process, and nothing worked. I. Could. Not. Write. I was devastated.
And now I'm beginning to see, I was blessed.
While I struggled with not being able to create, rejections on HOTM trickled in. I got one on TAC, too. The nasty little plot word kept cropping up in those letters, forcing me to look at my entire concept of plotting. I mean, I thought I knew how to plot. But what did it matter anyway? I couldn't get words on paper, so obviously plotting was the least of my worries, right?
Not being able to write kept me from falling into the trap of continuing to write and continuing to make the same mistakes.
Not being able to write compelled me to go back and look at my existing work and really analyze pacing and plotting.
Not being able to write urged me to read, in different genres, and compare the various ways authors plotted.
Not being able to write didn't solve my issues, but it's given me a new perception, along with some uncomfortable, enforced distance from my own work.
I'd call that a gift. Wouldn't you?