First printed in May 2022 HeartsTalk, the newsletter of Romance Writers of Australia (reprinted with permission).

Every time I enter a competition I think, ‘this is it’.

I play with the idea that I final, and then I win, and then I deal with the acclaim. I’m modest. I admit to anyone who’ll listen—it’s taken time, I’ve worked hard. Then reality bites. I don’t final, so I don’t win.

Does that mean I’m not good enough to be published? Should I find another passion? Be true to yourself, the pundits say, write the kind of books you like to read.

Supportive friends insist you are good enough—why don’t you self-publish? Because I’m not remotely interested in self-promotion, social media and web pages. I want a publisher to do some of the work for me. Now, that is a problem because every publisher these days, large and small, requires their authors to take a hand in self-promotion and creating a brand. That’s a bullet you will have to bite. And perhaps I’m late to this party.

Sometimes after a knock back or two from publishers you tuck your manuscript in the bottom drawer and move on the next potential bestseller.

And all these elements—the tough but fair competition critique, the critique from the reader who clearly doesn’t get your style and makes sure you know it, the rejection from the editor who likes the premise, or the characters, but hates the presence of too-much-back-story-too-soon, or thinks you should try another publisher—combine to deflate your confidence. Self-confidence—that feeling of trust in one’s abilities, qualities, and judgement. Words like self-possession, composure, poise, even nerve can be lost.

In 2020 I nerved myself to contact a competition judge. She’d given me a very encouraging wrap where others had scored me poorly, and I asked, through the competition coordinator, if the judge would be prepared to speak to me. I was thrilled when she said yes. More thrilled when I discovered Bronwyn Hall had won the Emerald in 2019 and was happy to share her approach with me. She sent her manuscript to every suitable publisher she could find and sold it. I’d sent my third place 2018 Emerald manuscript to one or two then stored it away with the hand-knitted winter socks.

Encouraged, I had another look at my manuscript, applied the skills I’ve been learning in the last few years and submitted to a US competition. I finaled—didn’t win—still the editor was interested in the full manuscript. Inkspell Publishing contracted my book Taylor’s Law and it’s due for release in July 2022. Inkspell has since contracted for the second book in the two-book series, Grace Under Fire—2019 Pacific Hearts Winner, which will be published in March 2023.

And a third stand-alone book Planting Hope, publication date July 2023. I’m both thrilled and apprehensive about the next steps, but I intend to take them.

I’ve written for years, had long gaps forced by workload or life or disappointment, but I couldn’t stop writing. I wish now I hadn’t taken those breaks. To be honest, part of the reason I stopped was also because colleagues and some family members bad-mouthed romance, not knowing I was writing romance. I couldn’t imagine telling them I was a romance author. In those years I toyed with the idea of a pseudonym. Now I’m using my own name, but protecting my privacy by using a graphic image to represent me, rather than an actual photograph, and limiting my social media exposure until I learn more.

A conversation with a stranger, a fellow member of RWA, and my confidence was boosted enough for me to risk another rejection on a manuscript I’d abandoned. So talk to people who share your passion for writing. They’re generous with their knowledge and support. Dreams can come true.

Jennifer will be at the 2022 RWA Fremantle Conference and is happy to chat. She’s also a finalist in the 2022 Emerald competition.

I’ve been thinking about this recently because I find that I return to this idea again and again in my writing. It matters whether my main characters are treating others fairly as well as whether my characters are being fairly treated.

This shouldn’t be a surprise. Research suggests that almost from birth, toddlers recognise the importance of treating others fairly—of the value of respecting rules. Kids notice unequal treatment. Kids who play fairly with each other enjoy the experience more, and if kids get along well together they have a greater sense of belonging. Belonging helps you grow and thrive.

As we get older, fair play becomes a constant in life—competitive sport, the creative arts, education, work, any field of endeavour you care to name. If competition is fair and participants are treated equally it means you are judged on your efforts. Winning is based on your merits not on some rigged system or deceptive trick—think hobbling a competitor in a match or stealing someone’s idea or taking credit for someone else’s work. I’m with you screaming from the sidelines—“that’s not fair”.

Fair play is an aspect of integrity—a fine quality for any self-respecting character. Teaching people tolerance and respect for others can build better relationships and help individuals and communities recognise injustice and inequality; the opposite is conflict and division.

Fair play is essential to romance. Intimate relationships need give and take to survive, need both partners to contribute and compromise.

I know, I know. Exact fairness in any relationship is impossible. We each have our own ideas about what fairness is. However, if you consistently make the effort to be fair across all dimensions of the relationship, relationships tend to flourish. At least that’s what my characters tell me.

Yesterday I went for a walk in my neighbourhood. Walking helps me clear the cobwebs, sort out a plot problem or just find a way forward in a scene. Walking is an oft-cited activity for writer’s block, and I can understand why.

Yesterday, I cut up a laneway to get into a street which finishes at the back of my house. I don’t often take this path because—er … dead end. Curiosity, or maybe nosiness is a better word choice, drove this first part of my route because a neighbour has demolished the back half of their house. We’ve been promised six months of renovations, and I wanted to get a sense of the scale of the demolition. The front of the house is neatly enclosed with those builders’ hoardings specified by law for safety reasons. Sadly, the view from the back street was pretty limited. They’ve clear felled to the roof line, but I could only see a few metres into the shell of the building.

So, I continued on my walk, cutting down a street I’ve walked many times before. This time, gates slid open in time for me to see the back of a two-storey house. I had time to think—“Wow! What a stunning renovation—a domed glass room leading to the garden”—when a hand was raised in hello. The owners are acquaintances I’ve seen around the neighbourhood for years. I knew they lived a few streets away; I didn’t know their house was a mansion by my standards, filling a space that in this area would often have two houses.

That’s one of the things I love about walking—the unexpected discovery, the entirely new story I can weave around the house and its residents, the realisation that I know almost nothing about people I see regularly. The discovery is like a pebble in a pond, with ripples spreading endlessly. If I didn’t know a simple fact like their house stretched from one street to another, what else don’t I know about them, or in fact what do I know about anyone?

What I don’t know is the starting point of a story. Maybe that house will find its way into a future book … or the owner will … or the owner’s dog?

I forgot to tell you I write romance. If you read my bio or found me via the romance tag on my FaceBook page or website you’ll have worked it out, but I’m new at this game of exposing myself and my thoughts.

So, I write romance, I’ve found a publisher for my first three books, and now I need to find you, my readers. For a complete technophobe that’s a daunting prospect. Fortunately help is always at hand. In this case, help appeared in the form of Judy L Mohr.

I met Judy at a New Zealand romance writers conference in 2018. Held in Auckland, it was an exciting conference, full of fascinating speakers, brilliant ideas and stimulating people. The buzz was still high at the end of the conference when a few people, with late flights or the need to unwind before going home to family, friends and pets, gathered in the lounge. I met Judy – ‘writer, editor and just plain crazy’ – to quote her. Judy’s a Kiwi, writer of thrillers, fantasy, science fiction, and non-fiction. She’s also a freelance editor with Black Wolf Editorial Services working on projects from writers around the world.

More to the point, I came home with Judy’s guide Hidden Traps: A Writer’s Guide to Protecting Your Online Platform.

Back in 2018, I didn’t have, and didn’t plan to have, an online platform. But my need to find readers has driven this journey. I’ve read Hidden Traps twice. I’ve dipped into it many more times. It’s readable, accessible and if you hook up with Judy’s blog, you have access to current challenges in the online world. Whether it be platforms, profiles, websites, blogs, social media or all the other paraphernalia associated with establishing a presence, this book asks the questions.

I’d still be tearing out my hair without Judy’s guidance. She’s made me feel more comfortable.

To my surprise there’s an overlap in meaning between a dream and a goal. Both can be about an ambition to achieve.

Working in education I’m familiar with goals – setting them, measuring them, reviewing them. I have goals in writing – improving my writing, finishing a competition entry, entering the competition, reflecting on constructive feedback, finishing the book, submitting to a publisher. But actually being published and read by a wide audience has always felt more like a dream – somehow more fugitive.

I’ve listened to successful writers at conferences talk about persistence and hard work. I can give myself a tick for those. But in the face of knockbacks I feel it’s the dream – the lure of the seemingly impossible – that keeps you going. The positive feedback from readers or editors who like your work helps a lot too!

A large-scale study showed participants spent an average of nearly half their waking time daydreaming, often while doing mundane tasks. Makes sense to me. There are some wonderful paintings about daydreaming – just search for paintings about daydreaming – you can get lost in them for hours. It seems daydreaming might be the default brain setting – if nothing else is happening daydream. It can also help creative thinking. I vote for that one.

If you like to get lost in stories of other people and their attempts to make sense of the world and find love come with me on my journey.