The robins are finally here, the killdeer are calling, the snow is melting. I should be ecstatic.
Well, I am, underneath it all.
While my book is still ‘in review’, I’ll call it, it’s getting harder and harder to keep positive, harder to want to continue onto the sequel, or even continue efforts on Exposing Dallas.
So I haven’t been writing in the last few months, not much. You know this, I’ve mentioned it many times before. But without writing, something that has filled my time for so long, I don’t know what to do. I feel like a drifter, without a purpose or place.
I have all sorts of things I could be doing, I know, but to fill the void, I fill it with meaningless internet surfing or busy-work. Yeah, I said I was going to stop that, too, didn’t I?
Winter is hard enough without waiting for the critique of a work you put so much effort into, the waiting and the doubting. Doubting leads to thoughts of failure, and failure leads to resignation. But damned if I want to resign. I don’t think so, buddy. Does that give me drive to go on? Not sure. Just hovering in that gray area between doubting and thoughts of failure at the moment.
I have already received some notes, most of which are not too difficult to fix or manipulate. But then I receive the “this would not happen, why not do this instead” comment that would affect how the entire book plays out. I wonder, did I make it clear enough that it’s actually A and not the B that you think it is? If I change one thing, I have to change the entire book and the story is lost. It no longer has the impact it once did. I don’t know. It’s things like this that make me question.
So here I am on a beautiful spring day wallowing in self-pity. That’s nice, eh? (Yeah, threw that in, after all, I’m Canadian, eh? And I live in an igloo, eh?)
Anyone ever feel this way when having a work initially critiqued? Ever feel like quitting, like it’s just not worth the pain that may follow the pleasure of writing? Been too long that my husband and daughter have had to put up with my ‘wallowing’ if you will. I just want to feel care-free like I do when my books are not being judged. People say, it’s just a job, it’s just a hobby, stop worrying so much about it! I HATE that. To me, it’s my life. Two things most important to me? My family and writing.
Maybe I just have that kind of personality, the one that really knows how to dwell on the negative instead of thinking positively. But I was always taught, “Expect the worst, hope for the best”. I really hate that phrase, too. Basically tells you to expect nothing good to happen in life, but you can always hope. So am I expecting my editor to love my book? Nope. Am I hoping? Sure. What’s life without hope?
Anyway, that’s a lot of blathering. I’d love to hear your comments on your experiences.