Welcome back to another monthly post in my Novels and Narrations blog series! In this series, you get updates on my writing in all facets: from the celebrations and excitements of the high moments, to dealing with imposter syndrome, hopelessness and rejections. Thanks, as always, for caring about my work as a writer and supporting me in this way. ❤
Let’s see how the month went, shall we?
So, as you may have seen on Twitter, I have…been struggling, currently. And not just because the hecticness of life has made it so I have been unable to write or work on my novel at all these past few weeks. Instead, it’s namely been with confidence. As a writer. Where I’m at in my “career” as a writer. Hell, if I’ll even get to have a career as a writer, at this rate.
I know that’s not unknown or unnormal. Hell, if you look through my writing post archives, you can see I talk (and experience this) a lot. I think, this time around, I am just feeling a little more disheartened than usual.
As you know, I’ve been working on BLOOD PRICE for ages. Literal years. The past few drafts (six, seven and eight), each time, I felt really confident about that draft. Each time, I sought feedback to confirm that confidence. And each time, I have been met with both praise and criticism. Needed criticism, let me clarify and confirm! And, before we go down the self-pity road for too much longer, let this be crystal: I am so grateful to every single person who offered criticism. Not only for their honest feedback, but their respect to tell me what they believed and their time to work on my story to begin with. I NEVER want that to be in doubt.
Yet, for some reason, after this round, it felt worse? Or hit harder, at any rate. Perhaps it’s just because I am so eager to query. I WANT this book out in the world; to be ready. Before, I felt confidence in my materials–book, query, synopsis and all–that it was ready. Yet feedback yet again tells me it’s not. And, instead of rolling up my sleeves to tackle it with vigor and determination, this time, I’ve just felt…lost. Stuck. Defeated. It’s like my mind is telling me I’ll never get there. No matter what confidence I feel, I will never break into an industry that is so subjective. No amount of work or stubbornness will get me there.
Yet, that’s the lie, isn’t it? Because you can get there. People have! People will! Hell, one of my great friends and writer partner Joyce just published her book!! A person I know has done it!
However, the imposter syndrome is stronger, right now. Perhaps it’s tied with grad school and academia and being told I need to be “literary” when I could care less about that. Perhaps it’s the fact that I haven’t had time to create at all, so my past confidence feels fake. Maybe even the very fact that writing goes on the back burner before gaming or my day job makes me feel like a fake writer; like I can’t give enough or sacrifice enough to “earn” it, so I don’t deserve for my dream to be published to come true.
It’s not a fun mindset to be in, friends. But it is my current mindset. One I’m hoping to break of, very soon. How? I’m not quite sure.
Thanks for reading a more melancholy post this week, friends. My fellow writers, what are you working on? How can I support you? Let me know in the comments and thanks for supporting me in my own journey and reading another installment of Novels and Narrations! ❤