I am winding and unwinding here--a yo-yo on a snarled string. It is the way of the writer and I know this...it is the way of the mother, and I accept this...it is me, as restless and fickle as I've always been. Yesterday, several writing-related hits dropped me down. Un-spooling--hitting-bottom, uncertain of myself. The magazine I work for is currently on hiatus, now it looks as though this may not resolve itself. This has nothing to do with me, but influences me nonetheless. I had been offered an interesting blogging-for-dollars position that seems to be dissolving--again, not my fault...but, still impacting my bottom line and a potential new audience for my writing. So when my editor's name appeared in my in-box, I seriously almost didn't open the email. Why would I--day I was having? But...I did. Her glowing praise of a little while back of my "completed" manuscript buoyed me for weeks. This was highlighted by her once again in the email introduction. She further added that the two execs she tried to make a final pitch to also commented on my work's "luminosity" and "ethereal voice". In the end, though? These two gentlemen do not feel it translates into a broad enough marketing appeal for the current sales acquisitions climate (think, variations of the DaVinci Code)...and they passed. As she notes, all hope is not yet lost. She has one final executive of the house she will talk to--but, it certainly looks bleak right at this moment.
My editor is a warm and wonderful woman who has championed my writing from the moment we met. This now "completed" manuscript wouldn't exist without having her as a "safety net" for when the going was tough. I knew a real-live editor at a real-live publishing house was waiting for my words. Imagine the gift of that, those of you who are writing in the dark without this know exactly what I mean. The fact is, if the final executive decides he agrees with his colleagues and also passes on my manuscript--I will have to move on to someone else. She has ideas, of course...contacts she'll share. But, it becomes--do I get an agent first? I'm tired of dealing with this "business" side of the writing world. I want to create and send it off and have someone else handle these things for me. Don't we all? Yes, I have learned so much this way about how the industry works and I am grateful for that knowledge. Still, I cannot deny how I'd love to be the writer in the turret, locked away--burning up in the fires of creation. My three muses ensure that this isolation is absolutely impossible, of course. Then, M. reminds me of what this all means to me and I begin to feel myself rise again. The novel is the first full-length manuscript I haven't abandoned half-way in. Seeing it through to completion has inspired me to begin other projects and recognize my ability to remain committed to my writing. This ascending and descending energy--it is what riding the creative arc feels like. I am seeking acceptance right now...when things fall into your lap with writing, like they initially did for me--it is so easy to forget what the struggle is. Life has decided to not-so-subtly humble me...and I have decided to share this here, without flinching.