Recently someone told me I take this too seriously, that I post too much stuff, work too hard on new material. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps in this new and still very uncharted waters I foolishly try to overcompensate the lack of my experience by doing more, always more. I push myself to the extreme, because when in that rare occurrence when I invest myself I always go to the far extreme, writing till early hours on the new book, preparing new materials for the site and getting the lack of sleep and energy for it after I push myself to the breaking point just to be sometimes disappointed by the lack of even response. When did I start to do things for the occasional like? I forgot the very essence of writing, the one rule, THE rule… don’t write for people, write for yourself. But not saying in some kind of manner that I am not enjoying my writing or that I do not agree with my written words. No! I am merely saying is it OK to push yourself to that ledge just because we feel or tend to think we would be more happier if we immediately “make it”? Why is it that we push that burden of stress on our back that we have to be cemented in a new endeavour as soon as we set sail in it? Is it just fear? Or perhaps is it more? Fear of failure? Perhaps… Or our own shame that we won’t be just good enough as we would like. Perhaps I tend to do things bit more extremely just because I feel like if I don’t do all at once, push myself to the max, I won’t be good. But in the process of burning out I feel like losing the one unique strain every writer leaves in his work that makes it special.
The one in the friend group
Ever been that one person in the friend group who just want to talk about writing and books? And when you do they look at your like OK weirdo don’t be boring and they immediately switch the topic? Damn I need some new mates… But all jokes aside I love them, but there are instant moments of hate, especially when they introduce me to new people. Mind you I am an introvert, true and true, but what makes the situation more difficult is when they say something in the line of “Yea, he is writing stuff…” Whoever was introduced to someone as any form of a writer you know the question that comes after. “Nice, so what do you write about?” No one, and I mean no one, in their sane mind is standing there while you narrate your whole WIP. They expect a quick summary of two sentences where you have to jam in the twist, total character motivation and growth, getting them hooked in right in those two minutes. Honestly when put in that situation I feel like I am live querying. If they don’t think I am weird by that point they will when I start blabbering about my work for a hour.
All fantasy based on real life?
One of the things I heard and a thing I am told a lot is that the fantasy I write Is based on real life. Then is it fantasy at all? Sure my mates recognise themselves in some aspects of my work, be it in a character I described (and killed off early) or be it in a plot that is very similar to something that occurred in our life. But let’s be honest, every work, be it even a fragment of it, is based on us, on our life, it is the unique piece of us that we put in our work that makes it unique, that makes it distinctively different from other authors.
I feel like no one is listening
Like I pointed out last week, I am beginning to feel like no one is out there. True, the introvert in me always pulled the brakes on most of things I want to post or reply to people. Ever saw someone’s post, thought of a funny reply, wrote it and just stood there watching the words you typed and thought “Did I really think this would be funny?” And like most of my replies it ends up being deleted. So just so you know there were many funny and witty responses you were deprived of. But even when I get the courage to post something, ask a thing or trying to be witty, all I get is well… crickets. I swear you can feel the empty space of vacuum that fills the silence when I try to reach out. OK perhaps I am overreacting a bit, but you have to admit it, that sometimes most of us haven’t thought that writing would be about these things. Reaching out to an audience that isn’t mostly there, promoting your work that a lot of people won’t even see. Whoever said that writing a book would be the easiest part really was onto something. It just makes you doubt, about you, about your own ability and I would lie if I said I don’t have moments thinking of giving up. It’s one thing creating your own world and characters and an other facing the real one.
Still out here
I am trying. Like most of you I assume. I know, we all have problems to face, battles to fight and you think your struggle is unique and special, as no one feels like you, but when you look more closely and see that there are million people who feel like you do, it takes away a bit from your own battle as now you know the fight you face is not that special. Bit in that shattering realisation you gain strength, knowledge that you ain’t alone. I am still trying, still fighting the notion of giving up, just wishing my words don’t end up in the emptiness of the void, wishing that at least the only response I get ain’t the echo of my own voice. Still somehow here,