Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash
When I say “we all know the feeling,” I realize that, perhaps, we do not.
I mean, I never, in a zillion bajillion years imagined myself thinking, much less saying out loud, “I just don’t want to write anymore.” Even putting it out there into the universe via my lil’ substacky newsletter thingie feels like something of a fever dream.
Because the thing is, I really don’t. … don’t want to write. I don’t know what my major malfunction is lately. Perhaps burnout. Perhaps … well, burnout. When by “burnout” I mean that which results from doing the same things that others are also doing with a ton of success, but which results in little for myself. Over and over (and over) again. Or is that insanity? Either way, I don’t care for it.
And this begs a question, the eternal one that those of us with said “little success” repeat to ourselves often: Why am I writing, anyway? For fun? Because I have some tough news for you. It is not fun. It is extra-super-hard work. And unlike most other extra-super-hard work, there is absolutely zero guarantee that any of it will net anything resembling recompense.
“Stop whining, Liz,” you say? Okay. I will. But that doesn’t change the hard reality: I need something to kick start my motivation. And a lot of the reason for that is envy. I mean, I work just as hard and create what I think are amazing tomes dealing with, you know, kissing and stuff, relationships…the HARD STUFF of life. Just as good as any one whose books are all over the “best of 2023” lists and whatnot. The envy is ugly. The envy makes me think dark things about myself. The envy is like those gross mushrooms that spring up out of nothing in the backyard after two or three days of rain…mysterious and inevitable, and yet, well, really gross.
Don’t get me wrong. I am not defending what any author, real or imagined, has done to further him or herself and their books. Especially if the thing being done is both racist and predatory. But the whole thing reeks of desperation— a desperation that I can 100% relate to at various times in my 12 year career as hard working, kind of moderately successful published author. The hills and valleys of an author’s self-confidence are both way high and super duper low and those low moments can sometimes make you crazed. Not sure if I had a 6-figure or whatever advance on what I’m told by my agent and publisher is going to be the next Netflix optioned streaming hit I would hit the “go” button on an organized and protracted program of putting down peers while trying to 5-star my own pre-release listing on an unnamed book rating site…but that ugly, mushroomy, dark place where we’ve all been does strange things to people.
But back to me and my need for motivation. If anyone has any tips about how I might shove myself up and out of this deeper and deeper hole of discouragement I’m taking notes.
I am going to be meeting with a publicist I’m paying in early January about the release of a new-genre-for-me novel in 2024. Maybe that will help. I don’t know. But the story ideas are coming at me hard and fast. I just can’t make up my mind if it’s worth writing them down anymore.
That said, I’ve listened to a whole lot of books since we last convened here on 89% Unfiltered. Here’s a quickie reminder of my scale of goodness to not so great.
I binged some back-to-back listening to a famous author/narrator in the romcom space, Julia Whelan.
Both My Oxford Year (not really a romcom considering the mid-narrative reveal of a Major Character’s Major Medical Issue but what do I know?) and Thank You For Listening were highly entertaining stories, well narrated, and ended well for a FOUR THUMBS UP across the board for me. I found myself especially charmed by the main character’s ARC in Thank You For Listening and consider that one a Four PLUS Thumbs Up listen.
The Covenant of Water is a gorgeous generational story set in India that I highly recommend to anyone who’s a fan of Barbara Kingsolver or Jhumpa Lahiri. The major surprise narrative twist is both something you kind of see coming but is also so incredibly gratifying you don’t care. 4 Thumbs Up for this author-narrated novel
On the SciFi front, I binged a 4 book series that lost its way at the end for me but for the most part is enjoyable. I was drawn to it because it features one of my top 3 fav narrators, Ray Porter and he did not disappoint. The “Bobiverse” is made up of 4 (soon to be 5?) books that are about a single smart dude (named Bob) dying unexpectedly but not before he agreed to option his brain upon his death to be recreated as the brain of a ship that is going to head off of Earth, which is dying quickly, to find new planets for Earthlings to live on. It’s a super creative set up, and each time the Bob recreates himself per his primary objective, we meet a new aspect of the original Bob’s personality. By the end the Bobs have colonized new planets, gotten overly involved in indigenous creatures’ cultures, and basically conducted various internecine wars multiple times in order to establish which “Bob” is the best Bob. That’s an oversimplification of a very complex story but it’s not presented in a way that feels complex, until you look back on it and try to describe it someone, like I am doing now, and not doing it a bit of justice.
3.5 Stars, as book 4 was just a a half a book too long for me.
Wish me luck and please, send me your “get out of this damn rut” ideas!
xoxo
Liz