I’ve been staring at this empty white page for a while now. It’s not empty now, because I’m slowly hacking out some words, but this is what I’ve been looking at:
For a while. I’d say it’s like staring into a blizzard, but at least with a blizzard, you can sometimes pretend you’re in Star Wars jumping to hyperspace or whatever.
Or maybe that’s just me.
Why am I wordless and thought-less today? I don’t know. Maybe because I started work on a memoir, so all my writing energy and self-reflection is going in there.
Maybe because I’m promoting the release of “Tunnel Vision & Other Stories From The Edge” and as much as I love self-publishing and getting my work out there, no one buys my books.
That’s not true. Ten of you did, and I’m really, really grateful. I shouldn’t look at success in my writing life, numerically, right? But it’s hard not to. My whole life, I wanted to be a Writer, but in my mind Being A Writer meant having thousands of people read my work, not just the act of writing. It meant being in bookstores. It meant, I don’t know, a corduroy jacket and book readings at tiny bookstores where I’d been invited to go. It didn’t mean a near constant plea of “Please! Buy my book! Or my recording! Read it! Listen!”
I’m trying to ‘adjust my expectations’ and ‘be grateful for those of you who choose to spend time with my words’ but it does make me cranky. No quotes around that word. Not ‘cranky’. CRANKY.
So sometimes I sit at the white page and I think, why bother? But then I bother because I CAN’T STOP MYSELF.
I need to write the way that marathon runners need to get up at 4 am in the bitter cold and run on ice. (Here I remind myself that I am glad my lifelong dream was not to be a marathon runner.)
Here’s the good news: I had two weeks off from work and it was terrific. I’m back to the studio this week, and it’s slowly sinking in that I don’t have to teach anymore. Suddenly, I have more energy for my own reading, and writing, and just energy to be a good mom and wife and person. It’s amazing what lowering your stress level can do.
And I’ve been eating healthy and cooking and working out for almost two weeks now, and have even *shocker*, lost a few pounds.
And I love the design and effort my husband did with “Tunnel Vision”. I’m proud of that creepy little endeavor. (Click here for other new releases. Soft sell, see?)
I guess, today, I just stare into the blizzard a bit longer…and home at some point my words will take flight.
Except when my words and books finally do take flight, I hope that there's not a giant Wookie sitting next to me. I'm sorry, but Chewbaca probably smells. There's no conditioner in outer space.