Wednesday, December 21, 2011
sometimes just tired
Launching a writing career is probably not much different than launching any other type of career. Not that I know anything about anything. I'm careening toward mid-life and still haven't grown up enough to leave the house every day.
Sometimes I even forget to shave. Or shower. My mother would not be pleased.
I'm always waiting to be found out. Exposed. Called to account for the lies I keep telling. "I'm a writer. I'm going to be a writer. People will pay for my work. And like it." Bad I am and slow to remember.
Peg me as a faker. I nod in agreement. Yes. Nailed it.
But yet, I continue.
Hiding down here in this little room. Only the tips of the trees to be seen. Leaves long since taken.
I read about this massive contract and that uber best seller and this author with 10,007 Twitter followers and add another query to my rejection spreadsheet (denial so nicely organized) and I decide that I hate all of it.
They won't stop. The stories. Moments of cerebral cinema. Flickers of rumble, war, love. Wolves named Jasmine. Death.
I don't even know these...things. Relentless though. And always rising in the quiet dark. Replacing sleep. Won't be hushed.
sometimes just tired - I'll get over it. Must - get over it.
Is there anything finer than the tang of a newly sharpened pencil?
Posted by Scott Livingston at 3:36 PM