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Mar. 26th, 2023 05:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spryngI finished my WIP back in February, wrote up a synopsis, workshopped it with some other writers, then shot it off to my agent. Family was coming to town and dayjob had finally calmed down, so I planned a week off so I could both hang out with them and also get some decent time in working on revisions of the WIP.
Agent wanted to talk in the middle of all that; ok, great. I'd still have a full day(s) off from dayjob to consider her revisions.
TL;DR she heavily encouraged me to trunk it. She gave me the opportunity to fight for it, if I wanted, but I've long struggled with whether or not it was the right WIP. I couldn't find the energy to fight, so it's trunked.
I'd feared all along that I was making a mistake with this WIP, running up the wrong tree. But I think I'd also hoped that once I shared it with someone, anyone, it would be easier to see where the problems lay -- and easier to see what was good about it. That she saw pretty much nothing in it worth pursuing, though, just gutted me.
And so the rest of my week off was just recovering from that blow, except then Baby Doore got croup and his nights became rough, so ours did, and then I got croup and let me tell you: yes croup is less dangerous in adults than kids but gods above/below did it still suck. I was knocked off my feet for almost a full extra week, which of course I didn't acknowledge and instead tried to push through.
Baby Doore finally started sleeping at night again by Friday and I've stopped coughing up a lung every few minutes so we're both on the mend but--
Now the depression I thought I'd avoided/already processed around trunking three years of work has hit like a truck.
I don't know, guys. I just don't know. Three years and I know I could have learned something from all this, but I could have been doing literally anything else and been in a better place. I wish I'd been reading instead, or running, or working on boosting queer books, or just diving deeper and deeper into local government action.
I can't not write, but is that because it's a decades-long habit or a compulsion? If I let it go, no one will miss it. There's plenty of art and it's not like I'm doing anything different. I wanted to be a part of all of that, but isn't that just hubris?
I don't know. I don't know. All of this just hurts right now. I have been picking myself and dusting myself off for the past five years, the last pandemic three being the hardest, and I honestly don't know if I want to keep doing this.
Agent wanted to talk in the middle of all that; ok, great. I'd still have a full day(s) off from dayjob to consider her revisions.
TL;DR she heavily encouraged me to trunk it. She gave me the opportunity to fight for it, if I wanted, but I've long struggled with whether or not it was the right WIP. I couldn't find the energy to fight, so it's trunked.
I'd feared all along that I was making a mistake with this WIP, running up the wrong tree. But I think I'd also hoped that once I shared it with someone, anyone, it would be easier to see where the problems lay -- and easier to see what was good about it. That she saw pretty much nothing in it worth pursuing, though, just gutted me.
And so the rest of my week off was just recovering from that blow, except then Baby Doore got croup and his nights became rough, so ours did, and then I got croup and let me tell you: yes croup is less dangerous in adults than kids but gods above/below did it still suck. I was knocked off my feet for almost a full extra week, which of course I didn't acknowledge and instead tried to push through.
Baby Doore finally started sleeping at night again by Friday and I've stopped coughing up a lung every few minutes so we're both on the mend but--
Now the depression I thought I'd avoided/already processed around trunking three years of work has hit like a truck.
I don't know, guys. I just don't know. Three years and I know I could have learned something from all this, but I could have been doing literally anything else and been in a better place. I wish I'd been reading instead, or running, or working on boosting queer books, or just diving deeper and deeper into local government action.
I can't not write, but is that because it's a decades-long habit or a compulsion? If I let it go, no one will miss it. There's plenty of art and it's not like I'm doing anything different. I wanted to be a part of all of that, but isn't that just hubris?
I don't know. I don't know. All of this just hurts right now. I have been picking myself and dusting myself off for the past five years, the last pandemic three being the hardest, and I honestly don't know if I want to keep doing this.
no subject
Date: 2023-03-27 04:39 pm (UTC)Maybe, in the long run, this one sits on the shelf with some acceptance (at some point) and it gets a day in the sun later. A rework. A revisit. Who knows.
Now that it's done and once you have a moment to grieve, what could be next? Don't stop. The world never suffers from MORE art. And certainly queer book art.
I don't know what this grieving process is like and I only hope to encourage you to not think the whole thing a waste while it FEELS like it has been. Take time to re-center. Maybe do some of those other things you mentioned while you wait for your next story.