It’s been a tough week. Again.
My father-in-law had a stroke, my mother-in-law broke her ankle. My dog had a stomach flu, and so did my kid. Work has been hell. The app deployment is still delayed, and now my user stories are under development, so it means I have QA on my ass all the time.
But I did finish brainstorming the plotline and the main lore of the entire saga. And I felt very connected to the story. I enjoyed handwriting it a lot, but I think the downside is that, since I wrote a bunch of stuff with a tired hand and some glasses of wine, I’ll probably struggle to recognize what the fuck I wrote a few months from now. But well, that’s a problem for future me.
I did have some anxiety and intrusive thoughts. “What if I never get published?” “What if all that awaits me are rejections?” “What if I can’t take the rejection and I just abandon my story?”
My therapist, aka my girlfriends, told me that the chances of being picked up by an agent and getting published are very related to the market, and that doesn’t mean I’m a lousy writer. But still, I’ve been struggling. Because… what if this is only good in my mind? What if I’m the only person who thinks this is a good story?
But then I thought about how good and right it feels to draw Emberfall on a napkin in the middle of a restaurant, how enjoyable it was when I wrote Duskenhold with an ink pen and stained my fingers, and then how good it felt when Gaya stepped in and Astra climbed the tower. So… well, let’s just keep going.
It’s not over until I win.
