Quiet on the Written Front

All’s been quiet on the written front the past week or so. I’ve done some more planning for my second novel, mainly world-building notes; countries, cultures, economies, rivalries, pastries, the usual.  But it’s been quiet.  Life intrudes.

Which leaves me with two points:

One, waiting sucks.  I understand the wait, but having to go six months before hearing back from a publisher on a manuscript you submitted is just…painful.  I feel like I’ve mentioned this before, but the waiting hurts.  And not just in a ‘oh I hope someone accepts my book and I become a tri-zillionaire and all my woes are suddenly cured because someone wants to publish me’ way, because all that is totally a thing that would happen.

The waiting hurts because of the lack of confidence it instills. 

So far, everyone who has read my first novel (and told me they have) has been a friend, or at least an acquaintance.  True, they’ve all told me it’s great, that it’s entertaining, that they want to read more, but there’s the continual nagging doubt in the back of my mind that they’re just saying that.  Waiting for someone that doesn’t know me to read my book and judge it…it’s excruciating.  Not knowing what strangers think, not knowing whether my first novel will ever be read by anyone outside my immediate friend circle, it makes it hard to write the second book. 

Writing the first, I was filled with some measure of confidence.  Some measure of, I can do this, and I can do it well.  I can take the story that’s in my head, and put it on paper.  And I could; I did. 

Writing the second, I’m filled with dread.  Yes, I can do this; I can take the story that’s in my head and put it on paper.  But why should I?  Why bother?  Will anyone read it?

The second of my two points is that life intrudes.  It intrudes often.  To begin with, working a full time job leaves little time to write.  Work, go home, cook food, relax (for sanity), sleep repeat.  Even the weekends are taken up by renovating, repairing, and managing my house; making sure the place doesn’t fall apart around me.  Important work.

I’m rushing through these two points, and I may revisit either or both of them later in more detail, for a reason.  In order to try to combat the lack of confidence, and the inability to find time, I’m going to try a solution.

Wednesday night is now writing night. 

I will get home from work, cook food, and then write. 

Who knows.  Maybe with a dedicated time to write I will be able to force the nagging doubts from the first point and the lack of confidence from the second one to back down and let me do what I really want to do.

Only time will tell.