Random photo that has nothing to do
with this post but that reminds me
why I like this time of year—->
Here come the random thoughts about me, myself, and my writing life. Various thoughts in no particular order that go something like this:
~ Because it’s taking so long to get to the next stage — selling a novel — I’m feeling (and this will pass, I know it will, but still, until then, it sucks) an is-this-worth-it? moment.
~ Let’s face it: Luck has its place in this biz. And, let’s face it again: Many wonderful novelists never get published.
~ I haven’t experienced forward-progress for about a year. If anything, I stepped backward a few paces because of the unsold manuscript. Now I need to impress my agent all over again with a new project. Ugh.
~ True, I completed a first draft. But. Whatever. I’ve done that before. Old hat, that. I’m ready to experience something new and exciting…
~ I’m on the outside looking in on my writing life, and it’s a disquieting feeling. Something out there is testing my mettle (what IS “mettle”?). So I say, test my mettle and be done with it already.
~ If anything, I’ve too successfully built my life around writing. Nothing much tethers me to reality — no family life, for example — so in moments like this I have nothing to fall back on, no other areas of my life I can look to and say to myself, I AM doing something with my life or I AM making a difference or I AM progressing in this or that endeavor.
~ I’ve put all my eggs in one basket and that’s bloody scary.
~ I’m in writing limbo, in-between this project and that, in-between this draft and that…
~ In truth, I’m not working hard enough; I could be accomplishing more with my days. I fritter away too much time. This blog isn’t the half of it.
~ My writing to-do list feels overwhelming yet pointless.
~ Ah well. How many times have I written posts in a similar vein? I’m boring myself, so I’d best take the dog for a walk and get on with my fruitless day.
~ The word “fruitless” is harsh, but I’ll let it stand.
0 comments on “Me, Myself, and My Writing Life”
I hope the walk worked the kinks out. Just step back and make sure you are enjoying what you are doing. If you aren’t, then change it up and have some fun with it.
Hi Chad, thanks. “Kinks” is just the word. I feel kinked-up today. But not kinky — that would be too much information anyhow.
All your worries say to me that you’re a real writer, as dedicated and doubtful as the best of them. If you were less worried, I’d say go do something else, but we both know that won’t work, right? Have some fun working out those kinks.
Hey tracer — I need to have more fun! That might be a factor — need to get outside my head sometimes!