Most times when I’m living out my day-to-day life I imagine I’m somewhere else doing awesome things. When I snap out of my fantasy I get sad so I go back in my head where I’m sitting on a panel at a convention looking at people dressed up as characters I invented. Sometimes I’m on the set of the new movie being filmed about a book I wrote. Sometimes I’m sitting in my office where my desk faces the window that looks out into the large garden in the back of my New England style house. Basically, anywhere but here.
This means that I end up doing a whole lot of nothing but working and then going home to read myself into somewhere other than my life. Or as my BFF hinted (in his mix-tape selection gift to me) in his astute observation “now real life has no appeal. It has no appeal” (Marina & the Diamonds).
And sometimes I think to myself that I when I get home I am going to edit those books I’ve written and the short stories too. But I never do. It’s about to hit August and I haven’t even looked at my last years NaNo more than once to change the order of the chapters. And I think, well if I get on it now then maybe in a few months I can send it out to a publisher and then… well it’ll take like a year to publish best case scenario… and then even if it did become popular I probably wouldn’t be on a panel at any convention for at least five years. That’s a long time. I could have been there by now if I’d started years ago when I first did NaNo. But I didn’t. I’m a loser.
It’s a big cycle of negativity in my head only broken up by brief moments of escapism.
I’m at a point in my life where I think this might be it. I’m happy in my job. I love it. I can afford to take care of myself and my daughter without stressing the numbers too much. Overall, things are good. So today I thought to myself, why don’t I just self-publish then. Why give myself more of a headache trying to send stuff out and getting rejected for years while giving no one even a possibility of reading my work. Even having two readers would be an ego boost.
I think I’m going to aim for that then. I want to write like Kilgore Trout and just throw my stuff up online in self-published e-books. I’ll just edit, maybe convince a couple of my friends who read in genre to look it over for comments and copy-editing and then just throw it on there. Let the internet fairies do what they will. Like my stuff on Zazzle. I’ve actually made $35 from that. Also, it’s kind of cool knowing someone liked it enough to buy it. Right now there are a handful of people walking around the world with a poster, iphone case, or necktie that I designed. Neat.
For NaNo this year, I’m thinking of writing an Epic poem. I hate poetry, and a few months ago I was drinking and claimed that anyone could write a book of poetry. It’s not difficult. Perhaps it’s difficult to write good poetry, but since I can’t stand about 90% of poems I’ve come across, I really can’t judge the good from the bad. So I’m going to write one big long badly-written Epic poem just for the challenge. I love a writing challenge.
Today I was looking into my dump all hotmail account and I found a review for a fanfiction I wrote perhaps 10 years ago. I’m like seriously people are still finding this story? It’s been 10 years in a popular fandom, how is it not buried underneath thousands of new stories? Sometimes I want to take down all the fanfiction stories I’ve written, but I hate when other writers do that to me and then I can’t find a fic I loved. So I leave them up for anyone who read them and liked it enough to bookmark. And because, you know what, I did it. I wrote it. It’s done. I’m going to own up to it.