Amy Zhang's Blog, page 2
October 21, 2013
Post-Deadline Thoughts
As of 1:14 A.M. October 21st, I have finished my first round of revisions. I have met my first deadline, and it feels unbelievable.
Revising this book was the hardest thing I've ever done. Drafting it had been so simple--the story told itself, poured through my fingertips as if I were only a vessel for it. It is, as my publisher says, a "jigsaw puzzle," and while drafting, the pieces had fallen into place all by themselves, and I had expected revising it to be just as easily.
It didn't, of course. Because the book is told in a non-linear fashion, I couldn't move a scene without changing two scenes before it and three scenes that followed. I would try to make subtle revisions, a nudge here, a shift there, and everything would fall apart, and I would sit curled on my floor with my laptop cast among the circle of charts and revision plans and the pages of my edit letter, thinking about all that could go wrong, all that was going wrong. I thought about all that homework piling up and all of that college stuff I hadn't touched yet. I thought about the thirty, forty, fifty chapters of my book I had yet to edit. I thought about all of the chapters from contests that I had yet to critique and all those manuscripts from my internship that I had yet to read.
Basically, I sat there and whimpered. Cried. Sent panicky, all-caps emails to just about everyone--critique partners, non-writer friends, teachers, my agent. Cried some more, thinking about marketing and publicity and how I didn't know how to do any of it. A bit more, imagining all of the bad reviews I was sure to get. And then some more, because there was so much to do, and I would have more time to do if I would stop bawling.
Today, of all days, I should have had a breakdown. I had noticed a pattern--they usually came during the ungodly hours of Monday morning, surprise, start off the week strong! Today (well, yesterday, really) was the last day before my deadline, and I wasn't finished with my final read-through. It was a perfect opportunity to eat chocolate and cry, and I was ready to, when I was suddenly struck by what an incredible thing it was for me to be stressed at all.
I was stressing over turning in my manuscript on time to my dream publisher. My editor brought some of my favorite books, books that I've grown up with, into the world--she had made it possible for me to fall in love with these characters and peek into their distant lands and take them with me, between covers designed by people who were now working on my cover, copyedited by people who were combing my manuscript for mistakes, loved by a team that was now taking an enormous risk by loving my book as well.
It's two in the morning. I am exhausted, sleep-deprived, barely aware of what I'm typing, and I am the happiest person in the world.
Revising this book was the hardest thing I've ever done. Drafting it had been so simple--the story told itself, poured through my fingertips as if I were only a vessel for it. It is, as my publisher says, a "jigsaw puzzle," and while drafting, the pieces had fallen into place all by themselves, and I had expected revising it to be just as easily.
It didn't, of course. Because the book is told in a non-linear fashion, I couldn't move a scene without changing two scenes before it and three scenes that followed. I would try to make subtle revisions, a nudge here, a shift there, and everything would fall apart, and I would sit curled on my floor with my laptop cast among the circle of charts and revision plans and the pages of my edit letter, thinking about all that could go wrong, all that was going wrong. I thought about all that homework piling up and all of that college stuff I hadn't touched yet. I thought about the thirty, forty, fifty chapters of my book I had yet to edit. I thought about all of the chapters from contests that I had yet to critique and all those manuscripts from my internship that I had yet to read.
Basically, I sat there and whimpered. Cried. Sent panicky, all-caps emails to just about everyone--critique partners, non-writer friends, teachers, my agent. Cried some more, thinking about marketing and publicity and how I didn't know how to do any of it. A bit more, imagining all of the bad reviews I was sure to get. And then some more, because there was so much to do, and I would have more time to do if I would stop bawling.
Today, of all days, I should have had a breakdown. I had noticed a pattern--they usually came during the ungodly hours of Monday morning, surprise, start off the week strong! Today (well, yesterday, really) was the last day before my deadline, and I wasn't finished with my final read-through. It was a perfect opportunity to eat chocolate and cry, and I was ready to, when I was suddenly struck by what an incredible thing it was for me to be stressed at all.
I was stressing over turning in my manuscript on time to my dream publisher. My editor brought some of my favorite books, books that I've grown up with, into the world--she had made it possible for me to fall in love with these characters and peek into their distant lands and take them with me, between covers designed by people who were now working on my cover, copyedited by people who were combing my manuscript for mistakes, loved by a team that was now taking an enormous risk by loving my book as well.
It's two in the morning. I am exhausted, sleep-deprived, barely aware of what I'm typing, and I am the happiest person in the world.
October 10, 2013
If You Give an Author Some Chocolate
...to encourage her to revise, she'll eat it.
She'll eat it slowly because there is an art to eating chocolate bars. She'll try to revise while holding the chocolate bar in one hand, but realize that she can't revise without proper music.
If you let an author look for proper music, she'll decide that her normal revising playlist simply isn't good enough, and she will use up a good half an hour trying to develop a new one before finding the perfect one on 8tracks.
If you give an author a perfect playlist, she'll sit at her desk and gush about how ABSOLUTELY PERFECT it is to anyone who will listen (IT IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT). Eventually, she'll try to revise, but she'll drop her chocolate bar and leave an awful little smear on her manuscript. So she'll go to the bathroom closet in search of Clorox wipes, and find a spider instead.
If you let an author find a spider, she will scream. Loudly.
Once she settles down, she'll want to kill the spider. It'll jump and disappear off to some secret spider lair in her house to plan her later demise, and she'll scream a bit more before she remembers that she's supposed to be revising. But she'll realize that she clearly can't revise while holding a chocolate bar in one hand, so she'll open up an internet browser and look for a Halloween costume.
If you let an author loose on the internet to look for a Halloween costume, she will certainly find herself looking at books instead within five minutes, and eventually she'll go downstairs in search of her credit card.
If you give an author a credit card, she will buy ALL THE BOOKS.
If you let an author buy ALL THE BOOKS, she'll soon realize that she has blown way, WAY too much money in one night, and freak out. But she really wants the books...and that reminds her that she has her own book to finish revising.
But she still hasn't finished her chocolate bar.
She'll eat it slowly because there is an art to eating chocolate bars. She'll try to revise while holding the chocolate bar in one hand, but realize that she can't revise without proper music.
If you let an author look for proper music, she'll decide that her normal revising playlist simply isn't good enough, and she will use up a good half an hour trying to develop a new one before finding the perfect one on 8tracks.
If you give an author a perfect playlist, she'll sit at her desk and gush about how ABSOLUTELY PERFECT it is to anyone who will listen (IT IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT). Eventually, she'll try to revise, but she'll drop her chocolate bar and leave an awful little smear on her manuscript. So she'll go to the bathroom closet in search of Clorox wipes, and find a spider instead.
If you let an author find a spider, she will scream. Loudly.
Once she settles down, she'll want to kill the spider. It'll jump and disappear off to some secret spider lair in her house to plan her later demise, and she'll scream a bit more before she remembers that she's supposed to be revising. But she'll realize that she clearly can't revise while holding a chocolate bar in one hand, so she'll open up an internet browser and look for a Halloween costume.
If you let an author loose on the internet to look for a Halloween costume, she will certainly find herself looking at books instead within five minutes, and eventually she'll go downstairs in search of her credit card.
If you give an author a credit card, she will buy ALL THE BOOKS.
If you let an author buy ALL THE BOOKS, she'll soon realize that she has blown way, WAY too much money in one night, and freak out. But she really wants the books...and that reminds her that she has her own book to finish revising.
But she still hasn't finished her chocolate bar.
September 15, 2013
Sh*t People Say to Writers
Last Sunday, my local newspaper wrote a story about me...and my writing...and stuff. Those of you who have followed my blog for a while know that I used to be very, very secretive about writing. I never talked about it. So this week was WEIRD and awkward and generally hard for me, but on the bright side, I FINALLY get to write this post! I've always wanted to. :)
So you wrote a book?Actually, I've written five novel-length works. The first one will never, ever see the light of day. I queried the second one and found my agent with it (YAY!), but it never made it past acquisitions. I also wrote a (very bad) sequel to it that clocked in around 200K (LOLZ). I wrote a standalone Norse-inspired fantasy about wolves and hot chocolate and losing your first love, which I'm planning to revise. Then I wrote this one, which sold. And I'm currently working on a few projects--
Like, a novel? Fiction or nonfiction? Wait, what are you doing? Why are you poking me?I'm trying to edit your redundancy, but your "delete" button seems to be broken.
How many pages is your fiction novel?OH MY--*breathes* never mind. And I don't know. 51,000 words. Ish.
What is your book about?
(via Title To Come)
BONUS: What is your book about (old church ladies edition)It's about fornication and drinking and drugs and abortion and basically what your grandson/granddaughter does on weekends, except I'm not going to tell you that because I'm afraid you'll have a literal heart attack.
Childhood, ma'am. It's about childhood and growing up. *insert smile and innocent head-tilt*
So how much did you have to, like, pay for them to publish this book?Actually, in traditional publishing, the publishing house gives you money for the--
What?! How much did you make?Good question. Would you like to know how much I weigh, too?
Dude, I wish I had the time to write a book.What? What is this time thing that you speak of?
What's your book called?Um, I can't tell you right now. I went through a title change, and the new title is still confidential. Hopefully I can share soon, though!
Whatever. You just don't want us to buy it, do you?I actually really, really want you to buy it, because your money will trickle down to me. And I do like money an awful lot.
Okay, so can I read it now?
But you need someone to read it! What if it sucks?Gee, that isn't the stuff of my nightmares or anything.
Am I in your book?Oh, honey. Would I really tell you if you were?
Can I be in your next book?Sure. I'll kill you brutally within the opening pages. I'll even let you choose your own method of death. Sound good? (but if I DO put you in a book and you don't like what you read, remember this conversation, kay? xoxoxo).
Well, can I be in the movie?On the teensy chance that they make a movie...no.
Do you know J.K. Rowling?Yup. We had lunch the other day.
Why did you write a book about suicide? You're not suicidal, are you?No, but once I wrote a fantasy about a world at war and a girl who kills people, and I'm not homicidal.
Yet.
I'd like to write a novel. How does it work? Can you tell your publisher to buy my book?Well. I can tell you that it DOESN'T work like that. First you have to write a novel and edit the unmerciful suck out of it. And after it's nice and pretty and polished, you have to slug through the query trenches and hope you find an agent who loves it enough to sub it for you, and then you have to hope that an editor loves it enough to invest money and time and tears and sweat and passion into it.
Okay...so--NO, I CANNOT TELL MY PUBLISHER TO BUY YOUR NONEXISTENT BOOK.
So...YA magical realism? That's like Twilight, isn't it?
Why won't you answer any of our questions? You won't even tell us what the title is. Stop being so stuck up about it.Eek! I don't mean to come off that way--but I've never really talked about my writing with people, and this makes me feel so incredibly uncomfortable that I've pretty much depleted what little social ability I have. But I really can't tell you the title!
Geez, you talk about this so often. You sound so stuck up.But--YOU ASKED! I don't mean to sound stuck up! But this is something I'm genuinely and overwhelmingly happy about, and I'm sorry if I'm doing something to make you misinterpret this. But I AM proud of myself, I DO love writing, and sometimes it's hard not to smile like an idiot about it.
So you wrote a book?Actually, I've written five novel-length works. The first one will never, ever see the light of day. I queried the second one and found my agent with it (YAY!), but it never made it past acquisitions. I also wrote a (very bad) sequel to it that clocked in around 200K (LOLZ). I wrote a standalone Norse-inspired fantasy about wolves and hot chocolate and losing your first love, which I'm planning to revise. Then I wrote this one, which sold. And I'm currently working on a few projects--
Like, a novel? Fiction or nonfiction? Wait, what are you doing? Why are you poking me?I'm trying to edit your redundancy, but your "delete" button seems to be broken.
How many pages is your fiction novel?OH MY--*breathes* never mind. And I don't know. 51,000 words. Ish.
What is your book about?
(via Title To Come)BONUS: What is your book about (old church ladies edition)It's about fornication and drinking and drugs and abortion and basically what your grandson/granddaughter does on weekends, except I'm not going to tell you that because I'm afraid you'll have a literal heart attack.
Childhood, ma'am. It's about childhood and growing up. *insert smile and innocent head-tilt*
So how much did you have to, like, pay for them to publish this book?Actually, in traditional publishing, the publishing house gives you money for the--
What?! How much did you make?Good question. Would you like to know how much I weigh, too?
Dude, I wish I had the time to write a book.What? What is this time thing that you speak of?
What's your book called?Um, I can't tell you right now. I went through a title change, and the new title is still confidential. Hopefully I can share soon, though!
Whatever. You just don't want us to buy it, do you?I actually really, really want you to buy it, because your money will trickle down to me. And I do like money an awful lot.
Okay, so can I read it now?
But you need someone to read it! What if it sucks?Gee, that isn't the stuff of my nightmares or anything.
Am I in your book?Oh, honey. Would I really tell you if you were?
Can I be in your next book?Sure. I'll kill you brutally within the opening pages. I'll even let you choose your own method of death. Sound good? (but if I DO put you in a book and you don't like what you read, remember this conversation, kay? xoxoxo).
Well, can I be in the movie?On the teensy chance that they make a movie...no.
Do you know J.K. Rowling?Yup. We had lunch the other day.
Why did you write a book about suicide? You're not suicidal, are you?No, but once I wrote a fantasy about a world at war and a girl who kills people, and I'm not homicidal.
Yet.
I'd like to write a novel. How does it work? Can you tell your publisher to buy my book?Well. I can tell you that it DOESN'T work like that. First you have to write a novel and edit the unmerciful suck out of it. And after it's nice and pretty and polished, you have to slug through the query trenches and hope you find an agent who loves it enough to sub it for you, and then you have to hope that an editor loves it enough to invest money and time and tears and sweat and passion into it.
Okay...so--NO, I CANNOT TELL MY PUBLISHER TO BUY YOUR NONEXISTENT BOOK.
So...YA magical realism? That's like Twilight, isn't it?
Why won't you answer any of our questions? You won't even tell us what the title is. Stop being so stuck up about it.Eek! I don't mean to come off that way--but I've never really talked about my writing with people, and this makes me feel so incredibly uncomfortable that I've pretty much depleted what little social ability I have. But I really can't tell you the title!
Geez, you talk about this so often. You sound so stuck up.But--YOU ASKED! I don't mean to sound stuck up! But this is something I'm genuinely and overwhelmingly happy about, and I'm sorry if I'm doing something to make you misinterpret this. But I AM proud of myself, I DO love writing, and sometimes it's hard not to smile like an idiot about it.
September 10, 2013
The Next Big Thing Meme
The fabulous Lori M. Lee tagged me for this one! I'm going to cheat a bit and tell you about both my about-to-be-published book and my WIP, because ERMAHGERD, guys, I'm so excited for both of them. Okay? Okay.
(Side note: those of you who have added my book on Goodreads, THANK YOU, but that isn't the official Goodreads page. My publisher didn't make it. And whoever did mixed me up with another author, so...yeah. Not me. I'll let you guys know when there's a book to add--it'll be around the time that I get to share my title with all of you!)
1. WHAT IS THE WORKING TITLE OF YOUR NEXT BOOK?
Still can't tell! But I CAN tell you that I submitted it as FOR EVERY LIFE, which is a reference to Newton's Third Law of Motion, and I CAN tell you that the title of my WIP is MEMENTO MORI, which is Latin for "remember you will die." Mori is also the name of my protagonist (who's dying. Shocker, huh?)
2. WHERE DID YOUR IDEA
FOR
THE BOOK
COME FROM?
UNTITLED (we'll just call it that for now--isn't it easier?) actually began as two short stories--one about an abandoned imaginary friend, and one about a girl who tries to commit suicide. UNTITLED is their lovechild. I'm not sure where the ideas for the two original short stories came from, but I knew there was a connection between them and I knew I wanted to develop that connection into a full-length novel.
MEMENTO, on the other hand, has been sitting in the back of my mind for...a year? Two? I don't remember where the idea came from, or when I got it, but I remember thinking, "I have to write this story. I have to."
3. IN WHAT GENRE DOES YOUR BOOK FALL?
UNTITLED is YA contemporary with a touch of magical realism. MEMENTO is YA contemporary with a touch of ice cream (or a lot of ice cream).
4. WHAT ACTORS WOULD YOU CHOOSE TO PLAY THE PART OF YOUR CHARACTERS IN THE MOVIE RENDITION?
Something about UNTITLED: there are no descriptions of the character's appearances. None. I want people to be able to see themselves in Liz and Kennie and Julia. I want them to be able to see their friends. I want the characters to be anyone, everyone. So no actors :)
As for MEMENTO....I don't know I'm just really bad with actors and stuff okay LEAVE ME ALONE
5. WHAT IS THE ONE-SENTENCE SYNOPSIS OF YOUR BOOK?
UNTITLED is about a girl who tries to end her short and catastrophic attempt at life, told from the perspective of her abandoned imaginary friend.
MEMENTO MORI is about a girl with half an immune system, a boy with half of his muscles, a cat named Schrödinger, and the road trip they take to solve the paradox of life.
6. WHO IS PUBLISHING YOUR BOOK?
UNTITLED is coming out in fall of 2014 from Greenwillow/HarperCollins. MEMENTO MORI is not currently under contract.
7. HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO WRITE THE FIRST DRAFT OF THE MANUSCRIPT?
I wrote the first draft of UNTITLED during NaNoWriMo 2012--so, a month. I'm actually super proud of that, mostly because November was a rough month for me, and I was under word count the entire time. I managed to pound out something like 13K in the last two days. Then I revised for about two months, and it sold the following February.
As for MEMENTO...well. I've been drafting for the last four months or so, and I have about another 15K to go.
8. WHAT OTHER BOOKS WOULD YOU COMPARE YOUR STORY TO WITHIN YOUR GENRE?
UNTITLED: BEFORE I FALL meets THIRTEEN REASONS WHY
MEMENTO: Hmmm....I'm not sure. My CP says it reminds him a bit of THE FAULT IN OUR STARS, except, you know, far less AMAZEBALLS.
9. WHO OR WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO WRITE THIS BOOK?
"Isn't this basically the same as question #2?"
Lori's answer, which I'm seconding.
10. WHAT ELSE ABOUT THE BOOK MIGHT PIQUE THE READER’S INTEREST?
UNTITLED is told by an imaginary friend, which opened up these incredible options for the story. The story is actually told in a non-linear fashion--there are three main times: a countdown from seven days before Liz crashes her car, a countdown of the hour before Liz crashes her car, and the day after Liz crashes her car. And there's a chapter with eleven words. I love that chapter.
In MEMENTO, Mori has written letters to the dead for as long as she can remember, and the book is actually her last notebook of letters. Among the addressees: Maurice Sendak, Gregory Peck, Nannerl Mozart, Georgiana Cavendish, and, of course, Schrödinger. I really love playing around with narration (have you noticed?)
I'm tagging fellow Greenwillow author Chessie Zappia, whose book ASK AGAIN LATER sounds totally amazefrackingballs and Mark O'Brien, because he's working on this new MS that I want everyone to be excited about. Take it away, guys!
(Side note: those of you who have added my book on Goodreads, THANK YOU, but that isn't the official Goodreads page. My publisher didn't make it. And whoever did mixed me up with another author, so...yeah. Not me. I'll let you guys know when there's a book to add--it'll be around the time that I get to share my title with all of you!)
1. WHAT IS THE WORKING TITLE OF YOUR NEXT BOOK?
Still can't tell! But I CAN tell you that I submitted it as FOR EVERY LIFE, which is a reference to Newton's Third Law of Motion, and I CAN tell you that the title of my WIP is MEMENTO MORI, which is Latin for "remember you will die." Mori is also the name of my protagonist (who's dying. Shocker, huh?)
2. WHERE DID YOUR IDEA
FOR
THE BOOK
COME FROM?
UNTITLED (we'll just call it that for now--isn't it easier?) actually began as two short stories--one about an abandoned imaginary friend, and one about a girl who tries to commit suicide. UNTITLED is their lovechild. I'm not sure where the ideas for the two original short stories came from, but I knew there was a connection between them and I knew I wanted to develop that connection into a full-length novel.
MEMENTO, on the other hand, has been sitting in the back of my mind for...a year? Two? I don't remember where the idea came from, or when I got it, but I remember thinking, "I have to write this story. I have to."
3. IN WHAT GENRE DOES YOUR BOOK FALL?
UNTITLED is YA contemporary with a touch of magical realism. MEMENTO is YA contemporary with a touch of ice cream (or a lot of ice cream).
4. WHAT ACTORS WOULD YOU CHOOSE TO PLAY THE PART OF YOUR CHARACTERS IN THE MOVIE RENDITION?
Something about UNTITLED: there are no descriptions of the character's appearances. None. I want people to be able to see themselves in Liz and Kennie and Julia. I want them to be able to see their friends. I want the characters to be anyone, everyone. So no actors :)
As for MEMENTO....I don't know I'm just really bad with actors and stuff okay LEAVE ME ALONE
5. WHAT IS THE ONE-SENTENCE SYNOPSIS OF YOUR BOOK?
UNTITLED is about a girl who tries to end her short and catastrophic attempt at life, told from the perspective of her abandoned imaginary friend.
MEMENTO MORI is about a girl with half an immune system, a boy with half of his muscles, a cat named Schrödinger, and the road trip they take to solve the paradox of life.
6. WHO IS PUBLISHING YOUR BOOK?
UNTITLED is coming out in fall of 2014 from Greenwillow/HarperCollins. MEMENTO MORI is not currently under contract.
7. HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO WRITE THE FIRST DRAFT OF THE MANUSCRIPT?
I wrote the first draft of UNTITLED during NaNoWriMo 2012--so, a month. I'm actually super proud of that, mostly because November was a rough month for me, and I was under word count the entire time. I managed to pound out something like 13K in the last two days. Then I revised for about two months, and it sold the following February.
As for MEMENTO...well. I've been drafting for the last four months or so, and I have about another 15K to go.
8. WHAT OTHER BOOKS WOULD YOU COMPARE YOUR STORY TO WITHIN YOUR GENRE?
UNTITLED: BEFORE I FALL meets THIRTEEN REASONS WHY
MEMENTO: Hmmm....I'm not sure. My CP says it reminds him a bit of THE FAULT IN OUR STARS, except, you know, far less AMAZEBALLS.
9. WHO OR WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO WRITE THIS BOOK?
"Isn't this basically the same as question #2?"
Lori's answer, which I'm seconding.
10. WHAT ELSE ABOUT THE BOOK MIGHT PIQUE THE READER’S INTEREST?
UNTITLED is told by an imaginary friend, which opened up these incredible options for the story. The story is actually told in a non-linear fashion--there are three main times: a countdown from seven days before Liz crashes her car, a countdown of the hour before Liz crashes her car, and the day after Liz crashes her car. And there's a chapter with eleven words. I love that chapter.
In MEMENTO, Mori has written letters to the dead for as long as she can remember, and the book is actually her last notebook of letters. Among the addressees: Maurice Sendak, Gregory Peck, Nannerl Mozart, Georgiana Cavendish, and, of course, Schrödinger. I really love playing around with narration (have you noticed?)
I'm tagging fellow Greenwillow author Chessie Zappia, whose book ASK AGAIN LATER sounds totally amazefrackingballs and Mark O'Brien, because he's working on this new MS that I want everyone to be excited about. Take it away, guys!
August 18, 2013
Life After THE DEAL
It seems like all of my blog posts are prefaced by "ERMAHGERD SORRY I HAZ NOT POSTED IN FOREVER" now.
But yes, I'm back. Hopefully?
So why the hiatus this time? A lot has been happening. We've decided on a title for my BOOK (I still get this stupid little grin on my face every time I say it), so hopefully I can share it with you soon! With revisions forthcoming and my spectacular talent for procrastination, the end of summer has devolved into a mad rush of holy crap holy crap I don't even know where to start working and ugly crying.
Oh, yeah, and I forgot how to write.
I think, as writers, we tend to view a deal as a climax. It's when the prince defeats the dragon and demonstrates a fetish for unconscious women, and all that's left is the happily ever after. Which, on the other side of the climax, is kind of a horrifying idea, because it means that we've already peaked.
It's ridiculous, of course. And I told myself so as I sat, day after day, in front of a manuscript that, all of a sudden, was impossible to write. And not just the manuscript--blog posts, interviews, essays. I couldn't WORDS.
I tried taking a break. I watched all three seasons of Downton Abbey in a weekend and got to level fifty in Candy Crush Saga and devoted, like, twelve hours a day to Pinterest. And then I sat down and tried to write again and the words just wouldn't come.
So I'm (hopefully) on the tail end of the worst writing schlump of my life, and I'm still terrified that I've depleted my quota of reasonable writing ability, terrified that I've peaked, terrified that I will never write anything decent again, terrified about what this says about me as a writer, terrified about what this means about the future. I'm terrified that the book I've already written won't sell and everyone will hate it and I'll have to dye my hair purple and get a new nose and become an alpaca farmer to escape the shame.
I know it's silly. I know I'll get over this eventually. But right now I'm terrified, and that's okay. Because writing isn't easy and that's why we can't stop. Because sometimes we end a story and have to take a deep breath, because endings are frightening and transitions are hard. Because our characters can have happily ever afters and all of my friends are dead endings, but we can't. We have tomorrows. And it's okay to be afraid of them.
...but existential crises still suck.
But yes, I'm back. Hopefully?
So why the hiatus this time? A lot has been happening. We've decided on a title for my BOOK (I still get this stupid little grin on my face every time I say it), so hopefully I can share it with you soon! With revisions forthcoming and my spectacular talent for procrastination, the end of summer has devolved into a mad rush of holy crap holy crap I don't even know where to start working and ugly crying.
Oh, yeah, and I forgot how to write.
I think, as writers, we tend to view a deal as a climax. It's when the prince defeats the dragon and demonstrates a fetish for unconscious women, and all that's left is the happily ever after. Which, on the other side of the climax, is kind of a horrifying idea, because it means that we've already peaked.
It's ridiculous, of course. And I told myself so as I sat, day after day, in front of a manuscript that, all of a sudden, was impossible to write. And not just the manuscript--blog posts, interviews, essays. I couldn't WORDS.
I tried taking a break. I watched all three seasons of Downton Abbey in a weekend and got to level fifty in Candy Crush Saga and devoted, like, twelve hours a day to Pinterest. And then I sat down and tried to write again and the words just wouldn't come.
So I'm (hopefully) on the tail end of the worst writing schlump of my life, and I'm still terrified that I've depleted my quota of reasonable writing ability, terrified that I've peaked, terrified that I will never write anything decent again, terrified about what this says about me as a writer, terrified about what this means about the future. I'm terrified that the book I've already written won't sell and everyone will hate it and I'll have to dye my hair purple and get a new nose and become an alpaca farmer to escape the shame.
I know it's silly. I know I'll get over this eventually. But right now I'm terrified, and that's okay. Because writing isn't easy and that's why we can't stop. Because sometimes we end a story and have to take a deep breath, because endings are frightening and transitions are hard. Because our characters can have happily ever afters and all of my friends are dead endings, but we can't. We have tomorrows. And it's okay to be afraid of them.
...but existential crises still suck.
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