Every year for Christmas my whole family would pack into the car. We'd drive for a few hours - usually us siblings spent it fighting or driving each other insane - and meet up with the rest of the family to eat and open gifts. It was usually fun, something to look forward to.
But I'll never forget one particular year when things turned out not to be so fun. When I was fifteen or sixteen we did everything as usual. Packed, got in the car, I scratched my brother's face, and when we got to my grandparents' we all piled out and went inside.
My family has always been interested in my writing. So when my uncle asked me about it, I started to tell him that I'd finished a book and was querying. Someone else in my family happened to be listening, and as I was talking about it he laughed. I turned, frowning. I asked him what was so funny.
"Do you know what the chances are of you actually getting published?" he asked me, smirking.
I, of course, got mad and fired back. (I used to have a tendency to hold nothing in.) The rest of the weekend passed without further event, but I've never forgotten that moment. Because wow, it hurt. I don't think that person really realized what an effect his words had. Of couse after that I was even more determined, and I went back to my writing with renewed vigor.
The point of this post is simple. Don't let anyone tell you what you can or can't accomplish. Don't let anyone make your dream seem small. Don't let anyone sway your opinions or beliefs.
And if you'd like to add anything to that, I would love to read it.