San Francisco Dreams

I have this friend, Hannah, who excites me very much. She is extremely supportive and loves life. She reads my work and tells me what she likes, hates, would change, etc.

She wants to work in publishing, she just doesn't where yet. (I strongly suggest she become an agent but that may or may be selfish of me. (Okay, it's selfish.))

Anyway, since she became a college graduate, Hannah decided to move to San Francisco. I was a little sad, naturally, that she wanted to be so far away, but how awesome is it to see someone step out in the world to boldly face their dreams?

Awesome, right?

Just yes, it's awesome.

I'm so proud of her. And a little jealous in the right ways. I got to go with her to move her in to her grandfather's house and say goodbye. I felt a little special, I'm not gonna lie.

Most importantly though, Hannah gave me back something I lost... reckless ambition. I've received five rejection letters in a row. And yes, it hurts and it's hard. But I don't want to give up.

I shamelessly stalk author Jackson Pearce on the internet. And by stalk, I mean very respectfully listen, agree, disagree, and laugh at what she does from a safe distant and mean no threat, harm or harassment in any way. She's amazing! She gets pestered a lot by the same questions but she's so supportive of people following their dreams, mostly writers. I can't help but adore her. I've stalked her to the point I've read/heard it took her two years, two manuscripts and almost 80 rejections before she found an agent. So if she didn't give up and can be that awesome, why can't I?

In her live show last night, she struck a brilliant point: Getting published is hard. It's supposed to be hard. That's what makes it worth it. If it was easy anyone could do it.