“If mentally stimulating is attractive, and you cease to be mentally stimulating…” Mackenzie trailed off, letting the unsaid words hang in the air between them. Slogging through my #MarNo story – having a hard time with a specific scene. But I did write out one that I loved, and now have my favorite sentence ever.
Which is why I adore Kenzie. I’m not so fond of the fact that she’s made one of my older standbys into a stalker, but he wasn’t doing anything anyway. Poor guy niced/creepied himself right out of a starring role when he started being…well…creepy ^_^
Anyway…I’m not talking about burning bridges, though that’s an interesting topic. Today it’s all associated with “If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?”
It all depends. Do we have bungie cords? How high up is it? Will we get arrested?
One of the authors I follow on Twitter announced last week that she’d landed an e-publishing deal for a novella. Which is WOOT! in itself. So as part of this celebration process, she got her hair cut and dyed for author head-shots.
And I got hair envy. Yeah. It’s true. I needed to cut my hair anyway, but I saw the streaks and the great photos and said “I haven’t dyed my hair in forever…I want streaks.” So I got the haircut (which I like…I think…maybe) And instead of being smart about it, and paying a professional to do it (like my sister-in-law who rocks like pop rocks and would have done it for the cost of the dye), I went and bought a do-it-myself hilighting kit from the grocery store next to the salon.
And made the house smell like bleach for an hour. And when all was said and done, my $12 kit did leave little blond spots in my hair. But you can’t see them unless you know where they are (my hair is too thick, it hid them), and the streaks don’t run the entire length of the hair. They start about 1/2 inch from my scalp and fade out about 2 inches below that.
And what have I learned from this whole experience? That I can’t set my goals and objectives based on what other authors are doing – regardless of where they are in their career or where I am. That I have to set my own pace, not take short cuts, and do things right.
You might be thinking ‘well, duh?’ or ‘how the hell did you get from point A to point Q?’, but the answer to both is “hey, I’m a little nuts (I talk to the voices in my head, don’t you?), cut me some slack.”
How are you comparing yourself to other writers/people in your profession even though we all know we’re not supposed to?
It’s a hard thing not to compare. I just try to learn as much as I can from each success I hear about, and try to put that into practice for myself. But I do admit to caving in to the odd pang of jealousy every now and then. Especially when things are hard.
I agree that it’s difficult not to compare even when I know I’m not ready and that the person didn’t even go the route I plan to go. For example: a teen I sometimes talked to on WDC wrote a book for nanowrimo and a couple months later (I’m pretty sure only two months) she self-published the book with money from her parents. I was a little envious then, just because she was “selling” a book already after only a few months of work. (And she now talks about writing a 9 book series, well starting it right now on her blog.) Granted, I think she went too early and was unprepared, I still wish I had a book ready.
I also get a little envious when friends start submitting their novels to agents (*hugs you*). It’s more because I have been writing for 5 years and still just recently started writing my first second draft. It’s taking me a long time considering I have like 10 novels in progress or more. I know I start too many and have a hard time seeing which one to focus on as “the one”.
@Kate – I know exactly what you mean. It’s an impossible thing to suppress.
@Dawn – *hugs* I have a similar reaction to the self-pubbed thing…a little jealousy, a lot of indignation. Not about all self-pubbed authors. There are some who are really good…but the ones you can tell skipped the important steps (like revision, editing, etc). Prolly should be able to just let it slide, but I never quite can.