Worldly Path vs Godly Path

Today in Relief Society our instructor was encouraging us to be the person God wants you to be. She asked if we could think of a time when we had had to choose between the worldly path and the Godly path. I thought of at least 4 zillion times – duh! But there was a time, that I came very close to veering . . .

I was writing a romance novel. I joined the Romance Writers of America and was attending their meetings. Several of these ladies were published with Harlequin and Avon and it was quite exciting to be included in their group – they knew so much, had been through all the ropes. They had various ways to seclude themselves from the everyday world so they could write and they invited me participate in these methods with them. Most of them, when they were on deadline, would go away to a cabin or hotel where they would not be disturbed with normal life. Since I had a family I felt quite obligated to, I always declined. At one time they were all into a method that was probably a self-hypnosis thing. They all met at a cabin and attempted to get into a trance-like state where they could actually meet their characters. I didn’t much feel like I wanted to be a zombie in company with a bunch of grown ladies (and since I had a family I felt quite obligated to), I declined. These things were not a great temptation to me. However, we all have our weak spot. And mine was that I did want to have my novel published, and my goal was to be published with Harlequin. I wanted it bad!

At the annual Romance Writers conference, I was able to meet with an editor from Harlequin and she read my sample chapters and outline and told me that she was impressed. She told me that she would be interested in working with me, but I would need to change my style to come up to Harlequin standards. What this meant was that I needed to add some steamy sex to my book. And not all that much steam, either, just a little sizzle. So I agreed to give it a try.

I began to rewrite my book, including all the editor’s suggestions. It was coming along nicely, until my son asked me if he could read it. Oops! Also, at this time, I was serving as a counselor in the Young Women’s organization. Oops! What would happen if one of my young women were to read this novel (as they surely would, because they all knew I was struggling to write one.) Oops!

The new version came to a screeching halt as did my career with Harlequin.