Persistent Disappointment.
Okay, so June hasn't exactly been everything, or really anything, that I had hoped it would be. I thought that I was going to spend this glorious month in a tizzy of business and progress, all wrapped up in one word: Expos. As in, book expos. Due to some not so clear statements made by my CMP manager, I thought that I was going to be attending a total of three expos during June, and, to be honest, I hadn't been so excited about anything in a very long time. I felt life and energy returning to my veins, and happiness flooding my mind, soul, body, and spirit. I felt hope and possibilities, and once again I was able to relish all the little things, like the rustling of leaves by a warm evening breeze, or the gooiness of freshly melted cheese. Don't get me wrong, I usually appreciate all that stuff, but during that surge of excitement it was like it was all hitting me in high def.
I wish it had lasted. I really wish it had. My biggest goal career-wise, other than becoming a master storyteller, is to tour, and going to expos and representing there is an excellent launching pad. After all, you get to use airports and hotels, which is all I've really ever wanted. Yes, hotels and airports are actually what I daydream about. I'd say dream too, but my dreams typically are never that ordinary. You can actually control daydreams.
Anyway, to say that I thought that my life was actually now beginning would be a very acurate statement. When no one was contacting me about going, however, I did start to get extremely antsy. Finally, last Tuesday, I learned the truth. I was not going to any expos to represent my book. A team was going and THEY would represent my book. I was welcomed to attend as a visitor, of course.
Blast! My disappointment was intense, and yes I did shed tears, but emotions of any kind hit me hard, so it was to be expected. But, since I was also angry, I bounced back fairly quickly. I started looking at other possible expos and fairs and conventions to go to, and actually found something that sounded awesome. Then, however, I learned a hard truth: These things take extravagant amounts of money, and I have no money.
Oh, money. The guillotine of dreams and aspirations. Now, the only reason, besides wisedom, that I'm not throwing it all in and going for broke is because I know that I'm going to need money for the book in the near future. Being an indie author isn't easy, and when your book is the insane, irrational, irrevocable, even-if-you-beg-they-won't-change-it price that mine is, the difficulty of the situation is increased ten-fold. But, in the midst of all the sludgy darkness, there came a pinprick of light.
I had entered the New York Book Festival contest back in May. The winners were announced this week. I placed Honorable Mentions. Now, since I'm an uber-conpetitve person, I was disappointed that I didn't get first or even second. However, after reading why they chose the grand prize winner, I did understand a little. My book, while awesome and very well written, simply isn't an angsty book. Judges are looking for characters and storylines of angst, and that isn't in my novel. My novel, described honestly, is fun. It's refreshing. It makes you laugh and enjoy yourself and think that maybe the world isn't so bad after all. The angst and heartache and hard subjects simply have been put to the side, and that's OKAY!
Yes, I most certainly like books that deal with that stuff; I love books that make you feel and make you think, and yes I will be tackling such in my own books in the future, but really people. Aren't there enough novels out there like that? I know I'm a little fed up with teenage guts twisting and them dealing with abandonment and dead relatives and the meaning to life, the universe, and everything.
So, no, I'm not apologizing for the novel I wrote, just because it's CONTENT isn't destined to win overall in contests. A teenage romantic comedy on a tropical island? Yeah, not exactly poignant and heart-wrenching. I get it. I really do. But I don't care. I'm proud of my book, I don't write to win contests.
So, after getting over that, I learned that I could still go the reception in New York. Yay! One night, mingle with fellow authors, have a nice dinner, make friends and impressions, count me in! And then, after doing some travel research, the blade once again came down on the spinal cord of my enthusiasm. Traveling is expensive. Very expensive. Use all the discount travel sites you want, if you don't have any money to begin with, it's not gonna help.
I was so disappointed. Again. It was a disappointment that left me rather burned out. Feeling rather squashed on the sidewalk with no motivation to crawl back to the safety of the weeds, if you want to look at it from a bug's standpoint.
I do have a job; I am making money. But, like I said before, the book requires other expenses, and, when I look deep within my heart, I know I'd rather spend money on them and not go broke taking a flight to New York. Though I really wanted to go. Even though I'd probably get mugged. (I know that's pessimistic, but sometimes pessimism is soothing.)
Everything's a bit overwhelming right now, but mostly disappointment is. When you want money purely because you want to go do something with your life, but you don't have any, so you can't, it just plain sucks. Everyone around me is in a relationship, or getting engaged, or making strides at there job, and here I am, opting to be an author. I've settled myself into my own little puddle of ambition and stress, and right now, at this very moment, I feel so blue.
And yes, logically I know that it won't last. I know that through hard work and determination everything will resurface and progress will actually happen. Sometimes you just need to vent, and this is definitely one of those times.
I know I sound really bitter right now, and the last post was equally bitter, and so you're probably coming to the conclusion that I'm a bitter person. Well, despite the lack of evidence and all the proof stacked against me, which I myself willingly provided, the reality is no; generally I'm not a bitter person. I know you don't believe me, but I'm just getting started, so hang in there and trust me. I just needed to get this off my chest because right now I'm feeling so low, and the best way to cast off such burdens is to relay them in plain . . . whatever, type, speech, boxing classes, and move on. And blogs, as it happens, are prime territory for such emotional flushing.
So thanks for listening. I do feel much better. Hopefully my posts in the future will be much more cheerful and optimistic. Have a delightful day. :)
I wish it had lasted. I really wish it had. My biggest goal career-wise, other than becoming a master storyteller, is to tour, and going to expos and representing there is an excellent launching pad. After all, you get to use airports and hotels, which is all I've really ever wanted. Yes, hotels and airports are actually what I daydream about. I'd say dream too, but my dreams typically are never that ordinary. You can actually control daydreams.
Anyway, to say that I thought that my life was actually now beginning would be a very acurate statement. When no one was contacting me about going, however, I did start to get extremely antsy. Finally, last Tuesday, I learned the truth. I was not going to any expos to represent my book. A team was going and THEY would represent my book. I was welcomed to attend as a visitor, of course.
Blast! My disappointment was intense, and yes I did shed tears, but emotions of any kind hit me hard, so it was to be expected. But, since I was also angry, I bounced back fairly quickly. I started looking at other possible expos and fairs and conventions to go to, and actually found something that sounded awesome. Then, however, I learned a hard truth: These things take extravagant amounts of money, and I have no money.
Oh, money. The guillotine of dreams and aspirations. Now, the only reason, besides wisedom, that I'm not throwing it all in and going for broke is because I know that I'm going to need money for the book in the near future. Being an indie author isn't easy, and when your book is the insane, irrational, irrevocable, even-if-you-beg-they-won't-change-it price that mine is, the difficulty of the situation is increased ten-fold. But, in the midst of all the sludgy darkness, there came a pinprick of light.
I had entered the New York Book Festival contest back in May. The winners were announced this week. I placed Honorable Mentions. Now, since I'm an uber-conpetitve person, I was disappointed that I didn't get first or even second. However, after reading why they chose the grand prize winner, I did understand a little. My book, while awesome and very well written, simply isn't an angsty book. Judges are looking for characters and storylines of angst, and that isn't in my novel. My novel, described honestly, is fun. It's refreshing. It makes you laugh and enjoy yourself and think that maybe the world isn't so bad after all. The angst and heartache and hard subjects simply have been put to the side, and that's OKAY!
Yes, I most certainly like books that deal with that stuff; I love books that make you feel and make you think, and yes I will be tackling such in my own books in the future, but really people. Aren't there enough novels out there like that? I know I'm a little fed up with teenage guts twisting and them dealing with abandonment and dead relatives and the meaning to life, the universe, and everything.
So, no, I'm not apologizing for the novel I wrote, just because it's CONTENT isn't destined to win overall in contests. A teenage romantic comedy on a tropical island? Yeah, not exactly poignant and heart-wrenching. I get it. I really do. But I don't care. I'm proud of my book, I don't write to win contests.
So, after getting over that, I learned that I could still go the reception in New York. Yay! One night, mingle with fellow authors, have a nice dinner, make friends and impressions, count me in! And then, after doing some travel research, the blade once again came down on the spinal cord of my enthusiasm. Traveling is expensive. Very expensive. Use all the discount travel sites you want, if you don't have any money to begin with, it's not gonna help.
I was so disappointed. Again. It was a disappointment that left me rather burned out. Feeling rather squashed on the sidewalk with no motivation to crawl back to the safety of the weeds, if you want to look at it from a bug's standpoint.
I do have a job; I am making money. But, like I said before, the book requires other expenses, and, when I look deep within my heart, I know I'd rather spend money on them and not go broke taking a flight to New York. Though I really wanted to go. Even though I'd probably get mugged. (I know that's pessimistic, but sometimes pessimism is soothing.)
Everything's a bit overwhelming right now, but mostly disappointment is. When you want money purely because you want to go do something with your life, but you don't have any, so you can't, it just plain sucks. Everyone around me is in a relationship, or getting engaged, or making strides at there job, and here I am, opting to be an author. I've settled myself into my own little puddle of ambition and stress, and right now, at this very moment, I feel so blue.
And yes, logically I know that it won't last. I know that through hard work and determination everything will resurface and progress will actually happen. Sometimes you just need to vent, and this is definitely one of those times.
I know I sound really bitter right now, and the last post was equally bitter, and so you're probably coming to the conclusion that I'm a bitter person. Well, despite the lack of evidence and all the proof stacked against me, which I myself willingly provided, the reality is no; generally I'm not a bitter person. I know you don't believe me, but I'm just getting started, so hang in there and trust me. I just needed to get this off my chest because right now I'm feeling so low, and the best way to cast off such burdens is to relay them in plain . . . whatever, type, speech, boxing classes, and move on. And blogs, as it happens, are prime territory for such emotional flushing.
So thanks for listening. I do feel much better. Hopefully my posts in the future will be much more cheerful and optimistic. Have a delightful day. :)
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