In My Head: Why does everything take longer than I think it is going to take, and what if in the end I’m just a big, fat fraud?
In the Cup: Maxwell House dark roast. Splash of Almond Milk.
Currently Playing: The drip-drip-drip of drizzly precipitation falling from the eaves onto the window sill, and the occasional cranking clack of the radiators for our heating system.
On the Desk: The Mighty Knights
On the Nightstand: “Fiddler” script
Papers graded: 6. It seemed like more than that…
Well, things are not going very well this morning. We got dumped on – about 5 inches of snow out there – and the daffodils were out, the hyacinths were well on their way, the rosebushes and lilacs and plum and peach trees were all budding merrily. I was upset that the winter wasn’t as cold as usual, but now I’m mortally depressed that the snow showed up now, after a whole winter without the stuff.What about spring?
In Mighty Knights news, I worked on it off and on all weekend, and am still not much closer to the end than I was. Worse, I had an existential crisis over it during which I determined that it sucks and no one will ever want to read it and who did I think I was kidding trying to write a book in the first place? And now I am avoiding it by grading papers and writing this blog post and considering beginning the drive to work several hours early…
So, last night after hours of working towards an ending that wouldn’t come for a book I suddenly decided might actually suck (120,000 words in, mind you..) I did what any good, self-loathing writer does and took to my bed with a plethora of chocolate items. And now I’ve awakened feeling like crap. Not only does my stomach ache from the chocolate overload, but my mind aches from the writing-in-circles, my soul aches from the never-ending grading and wondering whether the writing is even worth continuing with, and I feel exhausted and so down I just want to crawl into bed and go back to sleep for a week.
Only, then I’d have to wake up again.
I think I’m depressed.
I’m blaming the Tamoxifen for all of it.
I hate this.
You’re doing grand, hang in there
Thank you, I’m trying really hard!!!
I know I don’t comment much but your posts always make my heart lift when they fly into my inbox. It’s so unusual to hear that you are feeling down (although absolutely allowed, of course!) so I just wanted to send you warm and kind thoughts across cyberspace. Keep on keeping on. You are so not a fraud.
Thank you for your kind words!!! I’m trying to stay positive, but man, this is rough stuff!!
O
Be encouraged, sweet friend. Don’t give into the Tamafloxin haze. You are a wonderful writer. Keep going.
Thank you! I’m trying. I just can’t keep up with everything and it is frustrating me to no end.
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I always feel like a book sucks just before I get to the end. This has happened with 3 of my 4 full length fiction manuscripts, as well both creative nonfiction ones. The exception was “the book that I lost” by not properly backing up before a computer died, but we won’t talk about that here!
I change my mind about the book’s suckiness once I get to the end. A trick I learned along the way is to set it aside for a bit and then go back and push through to the end. It’s important to finish, but you get to decide when.
Thank you for the encouragement! I already know it needs serious rewriting in places, and I know there are parts that are really great – it’s like any first draft, a big old mess. The key to being a good writer is re-writing, right? I’m just in a funk right now. SIGH.
I remember when my mom took Tamoxifen. I used to think the name was so cool to say. I had a little song I sang as I walked through the house bringing her something to take it with. “taking Tamoxifen Tamoxifen Tamoxifen, do da do da” I always made the emphasis on different syllables too.
Hang in there my dear! Your co-survivors love you!
Thanks – the Tamoxifen is really awful so far, but I agree it sounds cool…!
As another woman on Tamoxifen, my heart goes out to you. For me the worst part is the stiff joints. It makes me feel old. But as someone said to me: What’s your alternative? Tamoxifen is saving your life.
Hang in there.
All the best
Jo-Ann