Day 17 and I finished another book

A book that I'm reading, that is. Inkheart is done. Now I have to pick up the next one. Inkspell. The ending was totally different from the movie! Not sure which one I like better yet. I have to read the other two before I can decide. I know she makes it very difficult to like Dustfinger in the book. VERY difficult.

Am I being presumptuous in calling myself a practicing novelist? Sometimes I think so. But I guess it puts into perspective that this really is achievable. I just have to leave my current job before it kills me.

I think another part of it is that it's hard for me to accept praise. I thrive on it, thirst for it, want it more than even constructive criticism (which I know it's good for me in the slightest), but at the same time ... it's hard for me to accept it as truth.

Being a child of the 1980s, I was raised with positivity. Positivity to a fault. Everything was good even when it was hideously bad. Anything I did was just as good as that of my brother and sister, even if I thought what they did was strictly awful. So, raised on that, how am I to come to terms that people may genuinely like what I've done?

And how do I accept a compliment, anyway? If someone compliments my shirt, I tell them where I bought it and everything. My hair, I tell them what shampoo or hair products I used. What about writing? Do I tell them where I went to 7th grade? That's where I really got the urge to become a writer. Thanks to my teacher. Because she was an English teacher, I guess she had to tell the truth. She wasn't a friend, so she didn't feel ... like she HAD to like what I did. But she said I have promise and dialogue was my strongest point.

So now it's time for bed. I'm reading the Various now.

I am a practicing novelist. And my time to be amazing is now.