A couple weeks ago I had an opportunity to attend a writing/poetry fair at a local college. Many vendors, authors, and lovers of books and writing attended.
Several panel discussions took place throughout the day and I wanted to attend one of them because mystery author Walter Mosley was going to be speaking. I wanted to hear what he had to say and to possibly get his autograph on my copy of Devil in a Blue Dress.
Long story short, M and I ended up leaving before the panel discussion. Truth is, I felt very out of place. I later told M it was because I felt like I didn’t belong; it seemed like there were more “relevant” and “creditable” writers there. I felt very small.
M and my psych both told me that it was silly to feel that way, and now I believe they’re right. You shouldn’t feel like you’re any less of a (insert profession or even person here) because a) someone makes you feel that way, b) strange environments, or c) especially because you let your self-doubts get the best of you. I started to doubt myself and my own writing and so I got depressed and nervous.
But, who’s to say I don’t belong there, rubbing shoulders with “the best of them?”
Nobody, that’s who.
So don’t listen to that little gremlin in your head who says you can’t do it and you’ll never match up. Because you can and you do.
I’ve combined my personal and “professional” Facebook pages. I have nothing to hide. I personally don’t agree with having separate ones and have always felt weird about it. Much like the radical new indie publishing world, why can’t we have a radical new way of looking at authors in the sense that what you see is what you get? I’m not stuffy or hiding anything. I am who I am. I want people to know me.
I’m also tweaking this blog to talk about lots of other things, not just my writing. It’s going to be my journey to become a published author and all the other things I go through on that journey, too. Like an outlet, kind of thing.
I’m struggling with my depression lately. It feels like I’m falling into a puddle. I just don’t want to end up in the same place I was in three years ago. I refuse to end up there. I am just trying to take one day at a time and stay in the moment.
I haven’t written much in a while, either. I have a new idea for a novel that M helped me come up with. It’s going to be a comedy. I still have that other sci-fi I’m working on, too. I have to really sit down and work on them–short stories, too.
Anyway, that’s my update.
Something cool happened regarding The Novel that Will Get Me Published. I sent a query and the first 30 pages to a publisher and they asked to read the whole thing. That was pretty awesome in itself. They eventually said no, but it was one helluva complimentary rejection letter:
“Thanks so much for sending your full manuscript. The voice still blows me away with its pace and tone. You’ve captured humor and intensity at the same time. Although it is an intriguing concept and a well-written account, I didn’t fall in love with it. I wish you all the best.”
I was disappointed, of course, but just the fact they liked it so much made me think, “Gee, I’m getting really close!” Bittersweet. It was cool.
I’ve been submitting all sorts of stuff again. Short stories, vignettes, etc. Things that were rejected, I’m turning right back around and submitting to other places. Hash tag determination.
I’ve taken a break from Facebook. Place gets on my nerves sometimes. Gets to me, y’know? So far I feel better. More time for writing! 😀
Anyway, the weather certainly helps things, too. Thumbs way up.
Blade Runner 2049 movie poster
That’s a U2 song. 10 points if you got it.
I’m…here. Surviving. Trying. I guess.
I’ve had a tough time battling my Depression and Anxiety, and there have been some pretty sad family issues over the past few months. I haven’t written much. But those aren’t really the reasons I haven’t picked up the pen… I feel pretty worthless as far as being a writer goes.
I keep reading stuff by other [better] writers and getting rejection letters, so my self-esteem is pretty much at the bottom of the barrel right now. All I want to do is tell stories, you know. Save people. All this is such a broken record if you’ve followed this blog…
I finally saw Blade Runner 2049 the other night. The original Blade Runner is one of my favorite movies of all time. This sequel is right up at the top of the list now, too. I don’t know; I watch stuff or listen to music and it does something to my brain and my heart that makes me want to try again–try telling my stories again, I mean. You put that soundtrack and story together and well, I guess I am inspired again. I am now inspired to work on my sci-fi novel and maybe even some short sci-fi pieces.
But it’s in a sad sort of way. Like, “what’s the point?” I know they’ll make me happy to write, but half the reason I write is to bring joy to other people. And at the rate I’m going, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that at the level I want to. I’m losing faith in myself, I guess. Or maybe I’m just ultra-depressed right now.
I have lots of short stories out at mags and I’m still waiting to hear back on the Novel That Will Get Me Published at the newest pub. company I sent it to. It’s only been 3 months, so I probably have some more waiting to go.
Anyway, I guess I’m off to dream.
*except it’s “way” not “wat”
But it’s still true.
I started this short story about six years ago and ever since, I have revised and redone it at least ten different times.
…and I’m about to do it again.
It’s one I want to include in my short story collection, and one I’d like to get published beforehand, so I want to make sure it’s totally rad. As I was going back through, it I realized I’m not happy with it. Maybe it’s because I’ve been reading a lot in general lately, or maybe I’ve just grown as a writer since I first started it, but I really think the story is crap as it stands now. Needs work.
Just an update for you…and a motivational quote from Stephen King.