Still working (from the depths)

 

Rather than saying that I lapsed in posting again, I think at this point it would healthier to admit that I just have a difficulty with blogging. And, I’ve learned, social media of any kind, really. I just don’t get it. To date, I have an Instagram account, where I have posted some of my poetry, and looking back at everything I did, it makes me feel slightly accomplished that to see it all requires scrolling. That makes me feel good. And I have Threads, which I’m still not sure if it’s different, or the same, or how it connects, or even how users really make it work. I have a friend who peppers me with posts from various places, and sometimes it’s from there. She encouraged me to make posts, and in so doing I have seen others’ efforts. It seems to be a nice forum, to sort of create an idea and get feedback in the form of replies. I tried it, and based on the silence, I feel like I did something wrong. And that’s been kind of the overwhelming sentiment from all of this. I have the mental image of fishing and catching nothing, just a lonely lure bobbing lazily.

In other news, the second audiobook is out. Moving the money around to get that done was a challenge, and I’m really hoping no unforeseen expenditures fall on me, because I will be in serious trouble. Ultimately, raiding my emergency coffers for the project woke me up out of a deep sleep one night, months ago. The first book did not perform, and my confidence was appropriately damaged. Before that, I could easily and simply keep writing. Because it was free, or at least it only cost time and energy. But keeping at this cost real power coupons, and of all my resources, I have always had very, very few of the green backs. I’ve only thought about giving up, really contemplating it, a few times, and this was one. I think just about every artist goes through rough patches, and one of the spells is the “why are you doing this? You’re not reaching, you’re not connecting” variety. The only thing one can do is keep trying, or stop trying. And that’s where I was, and when I woke up out of that dead sleep a question was lingering on the top of my mind: do you believe in yourself, or not? I didn’t answer out loud, but the thought was deafening: well of course I do. So I spent the money. And it was really nice to jump back into that process with the voice talent, to work through the script and the sketches and work on the voices and the pacing. I was reminded of what I was paying for, and now, looking back, I don’t regret it at all. I have a couple who were nice enough to give me feedback, and those interactions were invaluable. 

I am typing this because I am on break again. Looking back on the year, I was in a critical health situation, and I began to recover just in time for work to get very busy, and very complicated. I had to sort through a lot of negativity with the confrontation of discomforting change. I am going out for several new positions as I explore the professional ladder, and I have taped a paper form to my office desk imploring me to begin the process of submitting to grad school. When February comes, it will officially be one year since I was at another one of my deepest valleys. Every time I hit one I think it will be the bottom from which I thrust and push to greater heights. And I guess by that I mean rise, never to fall. With much chagrin, I am starting to accept that life is unlikely to unfold that way. But that’s for next next month. With what’s left of this one, this year, I have plans to work towards putting out book 6, and finish the rewrite of book 7. My cover artist did a good job and already gave me the art. So I am officially behind. I say that as if I was ever ahead.

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