By J.C. Lynne
I've been on a creative binge lately. Sure, I discovered the line edits on my manuscript didn't save. Sure, I've struggled with structure on a new novel. Okay, the dust bunnies may be a little out of control.
I received editor's notes on The Esau Convergence which means I'm a couple of hard working weeks away from getting it back to the publisher.
Even if I've been stumbling on the story structure, I have completed twenty-five thousand new words on the new trilogy.
Laundry has miraculously made it to the folded and put away stage.
These long writing days are hard work. Oh yes, I know what you non-writers think. Writers sit around drinking coffee, beer, wine, or scotch while musing on the inventive story at their finger tips.
All right, I'll give you some of that. I certainly have spent most mornings with my coffee while I pound away, figuratively and literally, at the lap top grinding out words.
This huge creative push has elicited some feelings of, dare I say, guilt. I've been feeling a bit low and flagellating. Yes, my second book will be published soon. No, I'm not rolling in the millions--yet. Yes, the dear hubby is slaving away practically night and day on his work projects because he's short staffed. Here I am spending my days on the back patio wrestling with brain tofu. Tough job. Wah, wah, wah.
He so kindly reminded me that The Martian was a self-published novel which has, after four years, landed in the money making spotlight. More reinforcement for the debunking of the overnight success myth.
To be honest, I love my job. I'm one lucky writer who gets to devote most days to my passion. I am familiar with the "Are you making any money?" question. To be blunt, I'll get there. I'm creating worlds and arguing with characters. It's grand!
I wouldn't trade my job for anything, even on those fifty word days. I suppose this twinge is actually sympathy. I wish everyone were blessed enough to work at their dream job.