Hope Restored

I quit. At least, I intended to. I don't know why, really, there was not one thing that I could put my finger on. But a culmination of disappointments turned into an insurmountable lump of disappointment resulting in putting the pen down. And being unable to find the energy to pick it up.

Not a conscious effort, I found myself just out of enthusiasm. Novels circled my brain, new and creative storylines that I found intriguing. Then, I would simply glance at the mounting pile of manuscripts already gathering dust on my shelf and, instead, click on the television. I have watched more television in the last two months than I have in the past 5 years.

It occurred to me - its a "kinda" writing depression.

The wind beneath my sails drifted away. The internet socializing thing led to disaster. People aren't who they represent themselves to be. I should know that, but am always surprised and disappointed to find out the opposite. I am a little too open. Still. Too believing. Still. Unable to spot crazy, when in hindsight the maniacal truth was in my face the entire time.

Why is that relevant? - well, on some levels, it shouldn't be. I forced myself to socialize in an effort to meet other authors, to make alliances, to better my art. And I have done that. So many amazing opportunities have come to me because of that, and I don't want to begrudge them. I love writing reviews, I love editing for folks, I love receiving an email requesting I participate in an anthology, read or speak at an event, consider working on a future project. That has all happened because of interent socializing.

But my personality is prone to overlook the 100 wonderful things and be devastated by the one or two bad things. So a couple of mistaken relationships were entered into. And then my current projects are in publishing limbo. So I am having to, for the one millionth time, consider self publishing. Lord knows I don't want to. And the not wanting to, in and of itself, is crazy. There is no discernable reason why I shouldn't. Self publishing, especially in this market, has limited downside. Why wouldn't I want to have 100% ownership of my own material, why wouldn't I want control over the look and direction of my work?

What is wrong with me?

Like trying to find a needle in a haystack, too many things hit me at one time and, for the first time in a long time, I just stopped. Sat still. Watched television. Thought. Wondered if I could stand to not write for a while. Then, when I tried, I found that I couldn't write, I couldn't resume the discipline of writing for simple writing.

And I quit. For a sum total of 20.5 hours.

I decided I was done. The work I had would never see the light of day, and I was fine with it. I had a decent run. Screw it. I give up.

I hadn't told my husband. Sunday he was pressed to go to church. I hadn't been in a few weeks and I missed it. Pastor Jenkins preached Hebrews 12 and entitled it "Keep Running." Yep, an entire sermon devoted to not giving up. And, since we arrived so early, I heard the end of the prior service too - so 2 sermons - on not quitting.

When I arrived home after church, a story I have been waiting to form, which previously felt blocked from me, just filled my mind like a flood. It was the craziest experience, I couldn't capture all the new characters and ideas they were coming so fully formed. Then a good friend sent an email - asked me to edit her next project. Of course I would do it for her, even if I wasn't writing anymore. As I answered her email, another email popped into my box, asking for my participation in an upcoming young adult anthology. Can't pass that up...

Then I spoke to my editor about a project of mine he was working on and he started hitting me with the Spoken Word, which made my heart jump a little. He challenged me to return with something and I was blank. So you know what that meant, off to the blog to pull up some old pieces, and get back into my poetic/spoken word vibe so that I could challenge him. Then my photographer and theme creator for my teen series called - he and the models finished up a photo shoot and he was ready to show me. What? Photo shoot? Models? I didn't even know he had started moving forward.

And, just like that, my pity party was forced to end. Just like that the writing machine kicked back in all around me and the treadmill began to slowly start its rotation. I am like the Bee movie, I guess, the machine has to keep cranking - who knows the outcome.

Which reminded me of all these blogs I have out there lingering, people who have loyally tolerated my writing temper tantrums and silent spells and still take the time to read me. I don't deserve you and I am humbled for you. thank you so much. I have some new things coming and they are fresh and unique and I hope you will like them.

So, I am calling an end to my self imposed writing retirement. Pastor said we have to stop comparing ourselves to others, have to do what we are called to do. I know the calling, I was just frustrated that it wasn't happening how I wanted it to. I was frustrated that I allowed internet socializing to distract me, that I didn't keep up the necessary borders to not get sucked into the fb/myspace time killing traps.

I am finally relinquishing the manmade goals, I am going to keep writing and see where it leads...