I marvel at the persistence required to write. To complete a manuscript. To revise and revise. To submit and re-submit.
All this, against the odds it will be picked up for publication. Then the odds that if it is, the book will succeed in the market place.
I think about dedication.
The most worthwhile moments of my life involved dedication. I am not speaking of the most fun moments, or the most memorable. I am speaking of what turned out to have long lasting value.
I read that J. S. Bach once walked four hundred and twenty miles to see a performance by a composer he idolized, Buxtehude. What dedication.
Was it a great performance? I don’t know. But the act
of seeking it tells of the dedication that makes someone like Bach.