It’s only January 6th, so why do I feel like a slacker?
Claw is recovering from the shellacking I gave it (the complications I added to the plot would have worked wonderfully for a novel. Not so much for a novella) and should be ready for release Real Soon Now (the editor is already tapping her fingers and asking when she can expect it).
Unfortunately I made the mistake of reading other authors’ newsletters and watching the trailer for A Pale Blue Eye last night. Now my Inner Taskmistress is screaming at me, “Why aren’t you selling more books? Why isn’t anyone optioning YOUR work? Is your thumb permanently embedded in your ass or are you actually going to earn some damn money this year?”
People think that working for yourself must be great. Not so much, especially when your Inner Taskmistress can be an utter bitch. I always feel that there’s more I can be doing, should be doing, and if I don’t do that I’m a lazy slut who deserves to spend her golden years in a cardboard box under a bridge. And I know that’s a stupid mindset to have but it’s a hard one to shake.
Anyway, I’d better wrap this up and get to work. I need to write a lot of words today if I want to be able to spend the weekend taking down the Christmas decorations and cleaning, whee…
Posted on January 6, 2023, in Business of Writing, Shifter Woods: Claw, Writing. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.
I wish I could say something soothing and comforting but I’ve always been slightly intimidated by your steady, dependable goals and achievements, and subsequently, I myself always feel like a slacker just reading this blog. You ALREADY put out good books on a consistent schedule, and still manage to clean your house, feed everyone, take care of cats, and read. Hell, you design your covers, manage your own marketing and run a site with tie-ins and other goodies too–no small achievements there!
Inner Taskmistress needs a cuppa and some introspection.
Inner Taskmistress needs to be bitchslapped and/or get laid, to be strictly accurate. And people keep telling me they wish they had my energy, that I do so much, but I don’t feel like I do. So don’t be intimidated by me—I’m three goblins in a trenchcoat pretending to be a functional human being and only occasionally succeeding.