I’m fighting the Green-Eyed Monster this Monday morning, my friends.
A person I went to high school with, who may have been mentioned previously, has been published. She’s a self-proclaimed theater geek, someone who loves the production side of putting on plays. I have no idea how long she’s been writing, what inspired her to write, or when her first two books were accepted. I wasn’t there for the journey, just the facebook updates.
The latest facebook update, that her third book is being published, was met at first with a wonderful rush of good cheer and congratulations. I love it when people are achieving their goals and moving forward in life. I’m the type of person that can be happy for other people, even when my life is worthy of a good flush and a few floral scented sprays from an aerosol can. I’m happy when my friends are happy.
But then, a soft, insistent voice began speaking in my ear. “But, why isn’t that you? You’re a great writer. You’ve ALWAYS wanted to write for a living. She’s living your life, and you’re happy for her; that’s cool. I don’t understand it, but whatever floats your boat, right? But when’s it going to be your turn?”
I try to tune it out, but the thing is, the Green-Eyed one has a very attractive voice (he should really consider a career as a voice over artist). He’s also very observant. He’s seen me at my computer perfecting piece after piece. He’s seen me send out three separate pieces and receive three identical rejections. He knows exactly which emotional buttons to push to get this writer all riled up.
But I’m fighting him off with work. I’ve done two marriage kit interviews in the past week. I’m knee deep in work on this college preparatory course (to be turned into possible eBook). I’ve set goals for myself to send off one piece and finish a chapter of another. I’ve been reading. I’ve been reading inspiring quotes and blog posts and listening to empowering messages. Yet, somehow I still feel I’m on the losing end of this battle.
As hard as I’ve been working with all of these blogs, the readership is still low. Even with fresh, well-executed ideas for new content, design tweaks, promotion on Facebook and Twitter, guest posters, a full digital recorder, and most of my creative energy and positive thoughts focused on it, the readership still hasn’t grown much. Despite giving these endeavors my best, I’ve made little to know progress. How, then, can I expect my fiction and memoir writing to make any waves in a much bigger pond?
This morning, I’ve been tired. I’ve filled as much time as I could taking in post from other writers, gathering to myself suggestions to shake up my writing life, but I still feel bereft of any real motivation to write anything. Instead, I just feel a weak pulse of jealousy mixed in with fear of rejection, insecurity, and discouragement. My writing self is on life support…
The Green Eyed Monster is about to claim another victim.