Publishing my book. I always think, “some day, I’m going to take the time to edit it and make it good enough to publish, and people will love it.” Then I go back to it and remember that it’s terrible and massively overwrought. I can’t even finish it much less make it good. And it’s like a dam in the creative part of my brain. I can’t think of another thing that isn’t just a lesser version of the project I thought was good but isn’t.
This isn’t me trolling for encouragement. I’m not a writer, and I know I don’t have the focus or stamina to write professionally. This was a dalliance, and I’m happy with my life and my accomplishments. It’s just that every once in a while, I think about publishing a book.
Thanks for sharing your experience, and you are completely right about “chop wood, carry water.” I spend a lot of time wondering if I would love or hate signing books for fans, and whether I would want to be involved in making the Netflix series or not.
In other words, I’m not a serious writer. It’s a daydream. Intellectually, I know that even if I were to sell the book, or even self publish, it wouldn’t change my life. Thousands of books are written and published every year, and success has as much to do with tenacity as it does luck, neither of which I believe I possess is sufficient quantities. But I dream about it the way one would dream about winning the lottery.
You put in the effort, and you should be proud of what you accomplished. Your words and ideas will live on as an indelible testament to your life. Unless it was something weird like hentai fanfic, in which case it’s probably better lost to history and you should keep that to yourself.
Publishing my book. I always think, “some day, I’m going to take the time to edit it and make it good enough to publish, and people will love it.” Then I go back to it and remember that it’s terrible and massively overwrought. I can’t even finish it much less make it good. And it’s like a dam in the creative part of my brain. I can’t think of another thing that isn’t just a lesser version of the project I thought was good but isn’t.
This isn’t me trolling for encouragement. I’m not a writer, and I know I don’t have the focus or stamina to write professionally. This was a dalliance, and I’m happy with my life and my accomplishments. It’s just that every once in a while, I think about publishing a book.
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Thanks for sharing your experience, and you are completely right about “chop wood, carry water.” I spend a lot of time wondering if I would love or hate signing books for fans, and whether I would want to be involved in making the Netflix series or not.
In other words, I’m not a serious writer. It’s a daydream. Intellectually, I know that even if I were to sell the book, or even self publish, it wouldn’t change my life. Thousands of books are written and published every year, and success has as much to do with tenacity as it does luck, neither of which I believe I possess is sufficient quantities. But I dream about it the way one would dream about winning the lottery.
You put in the effort, and you should be proud of what you accomplished. Your words and ideas will live on as an indelible testament to your life. Unless it was something weird like hentai fanfic, in which case it’s probably better lost to history and you should keep that to yourself.