Two  Sundays ago I went to bed around 9:00 with a book. In the process I had one of those moments where a good first line of a book comes to me. So I got my PDA from its charger(my computer was downstairs and I did not want to go back down to get it). I have become more and more reliant on the thing as my memory has become more and more unreliable.

With my stylus in hand, I tapped out that first line and the next until I had the entire 1st chapter written.
And I thought what I had written was brilliant and funny. At least I laughed out loud. And granted it was a rough rough draft and would need more work, but I was pleased with the plot.

Wanting to share my new excitement I rushed downstairs (notice that  I am excited enough about this to run downstairs)to have my husband (his deep dark secret is that he loves to read romance) read it and tell me what he thinks.

He is quick to laugh, so I waited with bated breath to see him throw his head back ( dreaded floating body part we’re told not to use in our writing–translation:  his head detached from his body and was thrown backward) and laugh as he so often does while reading or watching TV.

I waited and waited and still no laughter. He is a fast reader so I expected him to have come to the funny part. Then he handed me back my PDA and said, “I like it.”

I didn’t want him to “like it”. I wanted him to laugh. But he didn’t.

I began to think that maybe the lateness of the hour had me a little on the delirious side(I’m not a late night person) and that my story wasn’t funny at all.

But the next day, I still thought it was funny.

They say humor is subjective. I suppose this just proved it.

My ego had been damaged. I  continued on and laughed at my own jokes, thinking maybe I would be the only one.

And fortunately, after sending my 1st chapter to the ACFW critique group, I finally got the laughs I so longed to receive– in the form of LOLs. I can’t tell you what those LOLs meant to me. I wasn’t crazy after all.