Honesty time. Writing is hard work. I try to remember the fact that its also the best job on earth. But look. It’s hard work. So I’m taking to my blog to forget all about long form writing for this next twenty minutes, to leave behind fantasy fiction and the creation of supernatural characters and battles, and to just blog. Because sometimes you have to do that.
When I wrote my first book, I never expected to finish it. It was something I did as a sanity-saver while I walked a very difficult personal journey. My sister was in hospital fighting for her life. My family was caring for her around the clock. I (thought I) had just lost the love of my life and I needed something to kill the idle hours insomnia presented me with. (The love of my life that I thought I’d lost is now my incredible husband. Happily ever after rocks! FYI) I was dealing with chronic pain and chronic illness. I had a boring job that lacked the healthy challenge I craved. So I wrote.
When hubby and I got back together, I had stopped at the editing stage. “There’s no point. No one will ever read it. It’s just a hobby.” That was the internal monologue. Then hubby arranged for a graphic designer to do a cover for me. I saw it, and was so inspired that I powered through the final edits and on to publication. Where I felt guilty spending time and money on what I thought was an indulgence, he put together a plan that not only justified both but made me realize this was worth it.
Fast forward a year: I am hearing people say this book is changing lives. It is being read in South Africa, Saudi Arabia, Papua New Guinea, New Zealand, Great Britain, Malaysia and other places. I am amazed at how something I wrote has helped people understand the spirit world, and their place in it.
So that was book #1. Book #2 is a ghostwritten piece that is going to change lives. It was hard for a lot of other reasons, but I was spurred on by the fact that it was a team effort, that I wasn’t getting through the roadblocks on my own.
Now there is book #3 – my second novel. After a few drafts, the narration is right. The supernatural vs natural balance is right. I feel like I am home. But I still stare at the computer screen for what can seem like hours before I commit to entering the world I’ve created to find out what happens next. It’s like standing at the door of a cinema, refusing to step in, and squinting through your eyes at the screen so the blurs of color are there but you can’t see the full picture – for hours.
I still love the characters. I can still see the finish line, and that horrible cliffhanger I’m going to leave my readers (and my characters) white-knuckling on.
But I’m a chicken. A big fat chicken. And I just wanted to fess up about it. This is the point where I could give up. But I probably wont. My obsessive streak probably won’t let me. I’m probably too determined, and can still remember that the trade off for all this difficult thinking is actually beautiful and completely worth it.
Anyway. Its been a road block kind of a day. And I just wanted to vent to my fellow writers about what its like!
Thanks for reading! Over and out