I don't think I have an especially strange relationship with fear. Not like my relationships with other emotions anyway. I will start off by saying, through writing these blog posts I've realised how much the curse of Anxiety and OCD, then the blessing of an incredibly fertile imagination have fed into my relationship with fear, … Continue reading Fear and Me: So It Begins…
I've always had a pretty good grasp on myself. On who I am, on what makes me tick, on what shapes my mental health. That's not to say I've not had to learn things. I've had my tiny little mind blown several times as the dots have been connected in front of me, and it … Continue reading Hollowness and Guilt; Terrible Shades of Grief
I want to Caveat this post (even though it's made clear), that this post is speaking to people like me. People who have full time jobs and are writing for the joy of it. People who are not looking to forge a career and become an indie powerhouse or even submit to big publishers. This … Continue reading Nobody is Watching So What Are You Waiting For?
I have this weird relationship with success. As soon as there's a whiff or a tiny hint of it I pull back from the thing that's been successful. I'm not sure where it comes from. I've never had any traumatic experiences with success. I never gained it all and lost it all. I never fell … Continue reading I Have A Really Strange Relationship With Success or Where My Inconsistency Comes From.
Every rookie creating an OC makes a Mary Sue first, it's the first hill you have to drag yourself over on the way to creating good solid characters and I was no different.
Now before you click away this isn't going to be some post about how I don't give a shit, nor is it going to be me sobbing and looking for validation. No this post is going to be about how I learned to measure my response to disappointing reviews and ratings. Spoiler alert; the answer is experience and time.
Recently a series of things have crossed and intertwined and made me realise the weakness that I have let grow and fester inside me. Now I don't mean a weakness like my love of pizza or my serious obsession with hellmans vegan bacon mayo (put it on EVERYTHING, seriously!). I'm talking about something that might have traditionally been perceived as weakness but is actually a strength. I'm talking about vulnerability and the thing that has grown and festered inside me is the inability to be vulnerable.
It's a truth, universally acknowledged that a first draft will be terrible. Even with world building, character development and solid voices in your head. First drafts are inevitably terrible and mine are no different. If anything mine are worse than average because the book plays like a movie in my head and movies use a very visual language to tell their stories. A lingering look between two characters in a movie can convey some strong emotions, in writing you have to use your words and I'm not going to lie that shit is hard. I'm much more visual, but lets face it, making movies - especially the ones we see in our heads is expensive and also (I imagine), like the Trad Pub world probably very hard to get a foot in the door. Writing your own book, being it's master and independently publishing it for people to read is, well, it's easier, it's cheaper and it's a release. Sending your idea out into the world rather than simply letting it build up in your head.
I know how that sounds, especially given the amount of times I've screamed "Noooooooo why must you hurt me like this...." at a piece of storytelling. What I'm talking about here isn't the absolute devastation of a character death or a piece of fiction killing you with feels as two characters fall in love. I'm talking about the kind of hurt that runs deep. The betrayal when a favourite piece of fiction disappoints.