Thursday, 3 February 2011

In which I take my pen back - 27th Jan 2010

I have a confession to make. No, I’ve not gone off on a mad stealing rampage (Hulks amok in Co-op) or poked a small child in the eye (why would you, eh?!) but I have….gulp…..not been writing. Ok, now for the mass of self-justification:
  1. I had to write that big short story collection, remember? And then I had to edit it and proofread it and typeset it. Yes I had to typeset my own book (this may not strike you as a great surprise if you have seen the book, ahem). And that was all reeeeeally hard. Sigh.
  2.  I’ve been job hunting, which as we all know takes every waking moment to think about jobs, apply for jobs, chew nails nervously about the outcome of applications for jobs etc etc. That makes for one busy schedule….
  3. It’s dark in the mornings and I don’t like getting out of bed.
  4. Greatest confession of all:  I’ve started to wonder what I’m doing it all for. Gulp.
Earlier this week I saw a really cool doorway (yes, a doorway) and I thought to myself: ‘something very exciting would happen past that doorway’. I don’t know what it was, the way the stone was crumbling or the way the ivy looked just a touch too overgrown, but my imagination went into overdrive. I have been trying to supress such things because I am not writing, but then I overheard a really interesting snippet of conversation and there it goes again, the great desire to make a story rears its persistent little head again!

Getting good feedback on Stars in Unexpected Places was amazing, I loved that people  connected with it. That’s why I enjoy reading so much and to think that something I wrote resonated personally with someone is tremendously exciting.  BUT the world of publishing is so…draining! I don’t want to think about agents and royalties and sales and jacket covers but I do still really, really want to create new stories. I can’t help it – it’s so seemingly pointless and yet I love it! So what now? It seems a shame to let the fear of the big publishing monster get in the way of a good story, so I think I might start again. Take my pen back, as it were, and accept that I am indeed a crazy person and I will just have to live with that. There are worse compulsions I suppose?! And at least I’m not running amok in Co-op?

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