What happened with writing
Jun. 29th, 2020 05:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amberdineI think I need to put this out in the world somewhere, in the hopes of getting past it, and this seems like as good a place as any.
After a lot of work at trying to do this writer thing, I finally got a fabulous agent, who sold my beloved, quirky, personal YA novel to a small press.
That small press started having some problems, leading to publication delays, and their way of handling those delays entailed a level of ambiguity I could not handle, so I had my agent cancel the deal.
Soon after, (1) a huge family drama ate up all my time for months, (2) both my computers and my backup drive broke,* and (3) I moved to an apartment where the layout meant my desk had to be in the living room, right beside my delightful, chatty husband who works from home. Then 2020 happened.
I feel like The World's Most Failed Writer, even though I know that's silly. I lost all my writing habits and abandoned all my writing friends in my embarrassment. Now the world has turned into a stress machine.
But I've just set up a desk in the bedroom, and I got a new laptop. I don't really ever get any alone time (we're still staying inside) but I could probably work on something if I had any hope or goals or confidence or anything to say.
I'm not looking for sympathy (though I don't mind it either), I just need to admit somewhere what happened with the book deal, and why I stopped talking to everyone. I don't know if I can find my way back, if I should, how to tell, or how to start with any of it.
But I do like typing on this computer. That's something.
* writing was all saved in various cloud services, so was recovered fine. Not sure that's a win tbh
After a lot of work at trying to do this writer thing, I finally got a fabulous agent, who sold my beloved, quirky, personal YA novel to a small press.
That small press started having some problems, leading to publication delays, and their way of handling those delays entailed a level of ambiguity I could not handle, so I had my agent cancel the deal.
Soon after, (1) a huge family drama ate up all my time for months, (2) both my computers and my backup drive broke,* and (3) I moved to an apartment where the layout meant my desk had to be in the living room, right beside my delightful, chatty husband who works from home. Then 2020 happened.
I feel like The World's Most Failed Writer, even though I know that's silly. I lost all my writing habits and abandoned all my writing friends in my embarrassment. Now the world has turned into a stress machine.
But I've just set up a desk in the bedroom, and I got a new laptop. I don't really ever get any alone time (we're still staying inside) but I could probably work on something if I had any hope or goals or confidence or anything to say.
I'm not looking for sympathy (though I don't mind it either), I just need to admit somewhere what happened with the book deal, and why I stopped talking to everyone. I don't know if I can find my way back, if I should, how to tell, or how to start with any of it.
But I do like typing on this computer. That's something.
* writing was all saved in various cloud services, so was recovered fine. Not sure that's a win tbh
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no subject
Date: 2020-07-01 10:13 pm (UTC)Everything you say is sensible. I've just got my head wrapped up in two simultaneous and contradictory fallacies: (1) I am obliged to succeed at this thing (2) It is impossible for me to succeed at this thing, so I shouldn't even try. They're both wrong, I know, but they have deep roots and I can't figure out how to shake them. Worse, each one messes up pursuit of the other!
I could have handled one stupid unshakable fallacy...
no subject
Date: 2020-07-01 10:23 pm (UTC)Two! Two unshakable fallacies, ah-ah-ahhh!
That, or like The Girl with All the Gifts, but sub in "Unshakable Fallacies" for "Gifts" (...annnd, "Two" instead of "All")