Warning: My Depressed Rant About Nothing

Awesome Friday! Yesterday was my youngest son’s seventh birthday. My oldest turned eleven in August. Where have all the years gone? *shakes head* I don’t feel any older. A littler fatter maybe, but definitely not older, and yet they are proof that I’m older than I feel. Time didn’t go this fast when I was their age. Now it feels like I’m rolling down a hill gaining speed with absolutely no brakes. And in all the years I’ve been writing, since middle school, I’ve got one book published, but only because I decided I was going to try and chase my dream for a change instead of helping my husband chase his. It seriously does not help that he's not on board with my dreams.

So, maybe you guessed it…I’m a tad melancholy today. Not only are my boys growing up, but I’m frustrated with my writing. I joined Nano and I’ve typed a little over 13,000 words since Saturday, which I think is pretty good. Hopefully, I’ll get more written this weekend. But, I was reading over some of it yesterday and it was complete drivel! I’d have scraped it if I didn’t need the word count. That alone makes me frustrated. I want perfection, I expect perfection from myself…so, yeah, I’m a perfectionist in a lot of ways.

That led me to thinking how do I know my stuff is good enough to be published? Am I chasing a hopeless dream? How can I know they’re worth chasing? My friends like my stuff, but they’re prejudiced and they’d like anything I wrote. My mother won’t read it because it has the dreaded stuff in it…S-E-X. Shh…don’t tell anyone. She just told me last week that she has almost worked up the nerve to read my book. What? I am so rolling my eyes right now. Really, if she needs to work up her nerve to read it, then I wish she just would not read it! I don’t need the extra drama in my life right now, thank you very much. My mother-in-law thinks I’m going to hell for writing about vampires. If she read any of my stuff, her theory would be confirmed and the flames of hell would be nipping at my heels. I might need to take my socks off and make sure the soles of my feet aren't blistering as I write this rant.

So, I have no true critique group. It’s hard for me to trust folks to give me an honest opinion. One, they’re either going to try and spare my feelings and not give me the cold hard truth. Which does not help me hone any of my writing one little bit. Or, two, they’re going to give advice that is so far out in left field that it’s going to take every hope I ever had and crush it. I’ve seen that happen to someone, had them questioning their ability to write and that person now has a contract for the book that was severely slashed apart. Seriously, sometimes I wonder if folks intentionally want to crush other people’s dreams.

Sorry for the rant, the melancholy, the gibberish above that makes no sense whatsoever. Maybe I’m already cracking under the pressure of Nano. Maybe I’m just cracking under the pressure of a husband that is working too much, children that are involved in anything that involves a ball, a kick or a punch, and I’ve been zooming about like a single parent entirely too much lately. I don’t even know what a home cooked meal is any more. Anyway, I’m shutting up because I’ve dragged you all down entirely too much today. Rah! Rah! What a way to start the weekend off Gracen!

I hope everyone has an awesome weekend. If you care to share, I’d love some advice on how you know your writing is worth placing your hopes and dreams in it? How you battle the husband who doesn't support your writing? How do you stay upbeat without letting your doubts wear your down?

Don’t forget to come back tomorrow for your chance to win a copy of Linda Ambrosia’s book, Gulliver’s Children!

I've decided this post is proof that I can write a lot about nothing!