The first year we lived here I planted snapdragons in the pots on our front porch. It's a tiny porch and the stairs leading up to it are brick. The next year I noticed a tiny snapdragon growing between two bricks. Apparently a little seed had lodged there and somehow managed to get roots in some soil. I still don't know how as that step is a good three feet off the ground. Every year that little plant came back. Every year it put out one blossom, one pink snapdragon. Even though it was out of place I could never bear to pull that plant. I couldn't destroy what was so determined to survive.
I always hear that a published author is just someone who didn't give up. It makes me think of my little snapdragon. I want to be that plant. I want to be the author who didn't give up. That's why I keep rewriting. I'm getting closer. I can see the improvement and my roots are stretching down looking for the soil that will keep my story alive. I think that's what being a writer is all about. Perseverance.