Why is it that whenever something great happens to me, publishing wise, I always expect something bad to happen to me soon after? Do writers generally feel like this? I mean, this feeling crosses over into other areas of my life, but it’s like it gets radioactive when it’s anything to do with writing.
And considering that I just got a great review from Coffee Time Romance, followed by a great review on Literary Nymphs, followed by a great review on DEAR FOOKIN’ AUTHOR followed by an acceptance for my novella from this great establishment, I’m pretty sure I’m in for a buttload of pain.
It’s not going to be the other shoe dropping on my head. It’ll probably be a large van or perhaps a small planetoid.
But maybe that’s okay. Maybe if we didn’t have the fear (though you may not have the fear. Perhaps it’s just me who’s a total mental), we wouldn’t want to keep striving and busting our balls and we’d never learn to roll with the punches. Instead we’d just get punched and fall over, messily. Legs in the air, knickers on display, probably crying while we do it.
Not that there’s anything wrong with crying. I cry frequently, at the thought of the Shoe Dropping Fear.
Nah- I don’t really. I roll. I keep going, as much as I possibly can, and I don’t stop to think of the Terrible Thing that might be around the corner. I make plans: plans protect you against The Fear. I write until I pass out, and almost destroy my laptop as it slides off my bed or something slides off my bed onto it. I forget to eat and sleep and breathe, because there’s only one thing more powerful than the fear:
A book you love, wanting you to write it.