My Husband: The Literary Jedi

My husband is a literary genius. You read that right. The man is an English Jedi Master.

Last summer, right in the thick of helping me go through my final draft of A Rose for Braemore, he came to me with a few pages of something of his own and tentatively asked me to read it. Wanting to be supportive, I thought I would humor him.

And it was good.

Ridiculously good.

Annoyingly, infuriatingly, grammatically perfect good.

Meanwhile, I’m over here reigning as the undisputed Run‑On Sentence Queen.

The point is: I was upset. Seethingly jealous upset. I mean—what the heck? I’d been working for months to get my manuscript to a place I felt proud of, and here comes this man (who I absolutely adore, btw) casually tossing out brilliance.

A few hours later, I’m lying in bed, still stewing in the injustice of it all, when I hear from beside me in the dark:

“Are you mad at me?”

And like every good wife, I say, “I’m not mad.”

Then after a few minutes of silence, I sit straight up and announce, “I’m pissed.”

Our journeys aren’t meant to look the same, so comparing ourselves to others only steals joy from both sides. We’re all on different levels, and that’s exactly how it should be.

If you’re farther along, turn back and encourage the ones coming behind you. Share what you’ve learned. Offer a hand. Be generous with your wisdom.

And if you’re the one feeling discouraged, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep trying. Learn from those who inspire you instead of resenting the ones who seem to have more natural talent or early success. Whether it’s writing or anything else, if it makes you happy, continue to perfect your craft.

Full disclosure: I know this is all easier said than done. I’m still working on forgiving my husband, but this beautiful website he made for me is helping.