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By J.C. Lynne
Third novel is rumbling around in my head just itching for some quiet time to come pouring out. I was flying high!
I don't usually feel the Universe conspires, but this week I felt like it knee-capped me.
Circumstances have arisen that may require my return to the traditional workforce. Bleh. I know, I know first world problems. Jeez, I've had three years off to bust out a second novel. I also busted an ankle and additional follow-up surgery, but not working allowed me to recoup without pressure.
Yeah, I'm whining.
I've dusted off my resume, pulled out my teaching philosophy, and put out the call for letters of recommendation. I'm getting things lined up. And all along the way my despondency weighs me down.
I didn't expect to be rolling in the dough, but I did hope to be making a bit more than forty dollars a month.
Last month, I felt accomplished with each sale. Now that things have shifted and the discussion of my return to work is becoming a serious reality I find the inky black feeling of failure reaching up for me.
Every rational aspect of my brain says get a grip. A writing career takes time and patience. It's slow and steady work. Don't grow discouraged. Keep on swimming. You have a third novel rattling around in your head. SNAP OUT OF IT!
I'm worried about the toll working will take on my writing mojo. I'm bummed my dream seems to have hit a speed bump. I'm petulant and brooding over losing my open schedule. It's childish. It's selfish. It's not productive.
Okay, I'm done. My second novel, The Esau Convergence releases in a couple of weeks. I'll finish the third novel. I'll keep on keeping on.
It may require wine and chocolate and perhaps some bad TV. Author goes on self-pity junket ... the end.
In the meantime, buy my books!