Joe’s Post #69
Tuesday, I was flying high after a meeting with another writing group. The more I talked about my novel and my adventures last weekend, the more I became convinced I was awesome and amazing and had a pretty good story. In hindsight, it may have been the toxins in the anchovies on the pizza.
Then, yesterday, I finished the redo of my 10 pages for submission and tweaked the last commas on my query. All of it seemed good to go.
Then today, wham, like a house of cards, it all came down. Were my newly written 10 pages really better than the old ones? Did I even have a story that anyone would want to read? Ever? Should I even be doing this? Maybe I should be an accountant? Or a lion tamer?
Funny how one day I can feel like I’m the smartest guy in the line-up at McDonalds, the most handsome guy in Langley, and the best writer in the world. But then, the very next day, the exact opposite. Bah!
I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I’ve been a complete failure as a writer. Hope of success drained away like rainwater down a sewer grate and I was left with an awful, empty feeling.
But the truth is that the only way I fail, really fail, is if I give up.
So I won’t. It’s that whole stubborn or stupid thing. I have both in spades.
At the day’s end I realized one thing. Tomorrow will be another day and this feeling of fear, of being down, this too shall pass. It may require a martini or two (the mortar upon which houses of cards are built), but I’ll find a way back to my happy place.