All writers have them. Sometimes it's like we're manic. Extreme euphoria and then end of the world depression. There are a few authors who find a good balance.
But for me, it's been an Indiana Jones mine cart ride. Especially this year.
I'm back after being a week away from my writer's life. Tons of emails and stuff on social media to catch up on. It's so overwhelming, I feel like I'm going to drown. It's hard to concentrate.
I'm gone a week, and my muse is refreshed, eager to get going.
The end of the Totem series is near. A nine book series. What was I thinking? It's exciting to see the end of the long tunnel, to share the whole story with the world. Even more exciting to know I'll be able to start on something new once I'm done.
I'm writing the last book of the series, and I don't know what's going to happen. I have no idea how the heroes will defeat the villain. None. I'm so stressed out about it. Sometimes being a pantser sucks.
Being a pantser is wonderful. I love the surprise twists and how my stories evolve all on their own.
I have so many ideas for stories. What do I go with? Should I concentrate on what I love or what's marketable? How do I know if both of them converge? Trying to figure out this whole publishing thing is painful. It makes me feel like a failure.
Yes, marketing is hard, but I'm doing what I love. How many people get to say that?
Up, down, up, down, around, loop, up, down, corkscrew, and repeat.
And you know, no matter how rotten the downs can be, the journey is worth it in itself.
