Perspective Shifts, Writing Life

Lonely Editing Chair

  This is my editing chair.  I haven’t sat in it for a while.  I have worked on a fair number of drafts, but in a year with a good many interruptions of life, shifting deadlines, or deadlines that reflect the immortal words of Douglas Adams, “I love deadlines. I love the whooshing sound they make as they go by!”  They whooshed and rang and made music in the heavens by the many that blew past, or got tromped on as if disregarded.

I think I got… a bit frustrated, even as I know that the work being done was absolutely necessary, and only made Fate of the Red Queen better each time those deadlines got ignored, or whooshed by.

I set aside the unfinished draft of Sen of the Woods, even as I got it closer to completion, put the review of Seek the Monster‘s edits aside (the first part of it is there, to the left of the picture, in a black folder), shifted the process for publishing The Bone Reader to make it better, and drowned my various processes in binge watching TV shows, focusing on my paying job, and…

I still haven’t given up.

Those are the words to remember.  I didn’t give up.  I haven’t given up.  I did get frustrated and confused, not knowing what to focus on.  There are a lot of books I need to work on that are in a queue and I can’t seem to focus on any of them.  There’s a lot out there about finishing drafts, or working every day.  That’s not always possible.  One writer friend, one of my well established heroes, told me, “Don’t worry, it will be there when you are ready.”  Something like that.  I can’t find that bit in the conversation, so I can’t quote it directly.  I do remember feeling a surge of peace.   It helped me re-rout myself.

Another analogy, my compass was spinning.  Now I’m seeing North again.  I can’t declare when things are going to be published, based on this whole year with Fate of the Red Queen more than overdue.  I’m still only a one book published author, still pretty much unknown, and that’s okay.

My lonely editing chair won’t be lonely for long.