Sometimes I need to do a stream of consciousness blog post so my brain will stop fixating on whatever though train is looping through it and this is one of those times.
Behind the cut, for those curious to read, is me babbling about finishing my first full length original novel and why I’m losing my mind about it right now.
So, yes, I wrote a book! I have been “writing a book” for almost as long as I’ve been alive it feels like, but I have never actually finished anything aside from various bits of short fictions and, like, fanfic (anyone who follows me on AO3 or ff.net knows I am not even particularly prolific in these areas).
Anyway, lots of things contributed to my 0% completion rate, but a lot of it was ADHD that I didn’t know I had until...you know...February of this year, and then the rest was anxiety. I overthink. I convince myself I’m terrible, I get distracted I give up. Wash, rinse, repeat.
So since March of 2020 aside from, you know, ALL THE EVERYTHING, my grandma died and I was (and continue to be) brutally mistreated at my job and I finished three fanfics in four months and none of those things seems related until you understand that: a) all I have ever wanted to be was a writer but I convinced myself it was impossible because I never finish anything and am probably not talented (thanks brain) b) The though of leaving my terrible job for another similar job fills me with a creeping, fathomless dread and c) My grandma asked me every single time we talked if I’d finished my book yet and then she died before I got a chance to tell her that yes, I had.
Add in a pandemic putting into perspective what I actually give a shit about (hint - it is NOT being a 5-star hotel chain’s little whipping girl) and learning a lot about what I need to do to trick my hyper focus into GETTING SHIT DONE, basically I wrote a book.
It took nine and a half months. It did not “pour out of me” like many author’s claim their books do. In fact, most of his was wrenched, screaming from my brain in fits and starts. But I was patient and gave myself grace and finished my book.
I am very, very proud of finishing. I am also very very proud of my book. Because - and I need you all to understand that me saying this is like ripping out my heart and laying it in the middle of a road - it’s good. I don’t ever think ANYTHING I do is good. But I think my book is good.
I have now had four beta readers go over my manuscript and their feedback is... kind of mind blowing. Talking kindly about myself makes me really uncomfortable (Like, I’m cringing as I write this because I’m sure people are going to take this as a humble brag or just a straight brag, I dunno) But like... let’s just say they have all universally told me that the book is good as well. It’s not just in my head.
ANYWAY. So now I have this book. I have a finished book. I have the outline for two three more books tucked away assuring me that this was not a fluke, I will be able to do this again. I can be an author. For real. If I can find someone to publish me.
And I have this like... Deep Existential Terror (TM) about it. It’s really hard to explain. It’s feels like... it feels like this is my ONE CHANCE to fulfill my deepest most secret most important dream. Like I have this finished book, and it’s not a shitty finished book, it’s GOOD and people might really want to read it.
And I guess I’m basically freaking out? Like, now it’s researching agents and writing query letters (OH MY GOD I HATE QUERY LETTERS) and doing up my long and short synopsis (ALSO OH MY GOD HATE) and it’s like... I feel like so much is riding on whether or not I succeed with THIS book.
That’s so stupid. I know it’s so stupid. I can’t pin every single hope and dream on this one book. I can’t expect to just go *poof* instant success just because I finished something decent. I don’t know what’s wrong with me except that probably I’m just so desperate to escape my current employment circumstances that I’m fixating.
And the problem when I fixate like this is that I invariably send myself into an anxiety death spiral, which is precisely the OPPOSITE of what I need.
Anyhoo, I don’t know what my point actually is just that I am STRESSED and my brain is FRUSTRATING.
/end freak out