My goal for 2016 is to be more optimistic and positive, especially in relation to writing. Unfortunately, I didn’t even make it four days into the new year before my resolve began fading. At least I only set goals that I can continue to reset, so one instance of self-doubt and pessimism won’t derail me.
I’m at a weird place in my writing. My manuscript for FTP is complete. I queried it early last year, but I didn’t get much response. I had a couple of requests for partials and fulls, but those slowly fizzled with the common refrain that the agent “didn’t connect with my manuscript” the way she had hoped. *SIGH* Since last I queried, I’ve found new critique partners and sent my MS off to some excellent betas I met during contests. They have given me a lot of wonderful feedback, but since I’m in the middle of my WIP, I don’t want to lose momentum by stopping to revise FTP.
But agents I love have been been updating the #MSWL, and their lists include things that my CPs and I think my stories would be perfect fits for! I am so in love with my current WIP that I don’t want to stop until I reach the very end, and I can work on revisions to FTP once my CPs and betas have my WIP, but I need about 800 hours in a day to get everything I want to do done.
It’s hard to be optimistic and actively pursue writing as a career when my husband doesn’t see it as more than a strange hobby. I’m not sure if he actually supports me or not. I am trying to view it as a second job, something that will hopefully lead to getting published and ultimately selling my books. That’s difficult to do when my writing career exists almost entirely of stolen seconds.
Yesterday I had a meltdown.
I didn’t get accepted to a writing retreat I wanted desperately to attend. I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to go until I got my rejection letter.One of my CPs got accepted, and I was jealous. (I still love you, K.G.! Sorry for being a bit of a basket case.)
I felt stuck in my WIP. I’d be staring down the start of a new chapter for days, and nothing I wrote was working.
I felt like all the agents I want to query would be sick of their #MSWL items by the time I get around to querying. I always feel like I’m a step behind.
So I cried – while sitting at my desk at work, while rocking my toddler who refused to go to sleep, while talking to my husband, while talking with friends on Twitter. I cried and I got angry. I told my husband I feel like he doesn’t care about my writing and what it means to me.
I had an honest to goodness meltdown, and honestly, I wasn’t sorry. I’m still not sorry. I’m tired of pinning up all my emotions inside me and pretending I never feel anything because that’s what we’re “supposed” to do.
Maybe it’s not the most glamorous thing to admit that I cried angry, frustrated, disappointed tears for an hour, but it’s true. Real people feel real emotions, and I’ve been so tired and exhausted lately, it was good to let them out.
Totally having a writing cry on the 6th of January when I’ve decided to be more positive doesn’t sound like I’m succeeding with my goal-setting, but I woke up this morning in a better state of mind. I’ve written almost 600 words on the scene that wouldn’t cooperate, and I have a smile on my face again.
I’m still positive and optimistic that things will turn out well this year.