The Struggle Is Real
Marketing is torture. Seriously. It's the worst part of being self-published.
My books won't sell if I don't push them on people, but my anxiety refuses to let me. It also makes writing painful sometimes. Like tonight. Which is why I'm writing this blog post instead to rant about it.
Sometimes when I'm writing it feels like I'm flying, and I hammer out like seven thousand words in a sitting and walk away glowing, feeling like a boss. And then sometimes, like tonight, literally nothing sounds more painful than writing.
I'm struggling to put down a single chapter, let alone more than a thousand or two words. It's uncomfortable and it has me on edge.
Normally when it isn't flowing, I just do something else. Tonight I'm forcing myself to keep going, because I'm determined to put out two novellas next month, but I have to be honest, every word feels painful. Even this blog post is giving me difficulty.
Sometimes I can sit down and write about whatever is in my head--I talk about stupid tv shows I like or what I'm listening to. And sometimes that's fun. Most of the time it is. Then there are nights like this, where it feels pointless, like I'm just adding to the noise and I have nothing important or useful or meaningful to say.
The truth is, some of the joy goes out of writing once you start having to constantly stress over the financial aspects of it. I'm worried about how good my writing is or what vibes I should go for with a project, and then it's compounded with whether or not it will even sell, or how I'll get reviews for it when I can't even email a book blogger without having a mild identity crisis.
I know I'm not the only one who goes through it, either, but this can be a really lonely profession. We all feel that. I get it.
Still, it sucks.
For tonight, I'm just going to remind myself I've done this before and I can do it again, too. I've written 50,000 words in five days. I've written 75,000 words in fourteen days. I can do this. I've finished seven books, what's one more, in the grand scheme of things?
I'm going to take a deep breath. Keep writing. And hope for the best.
My books won't sell if I don't push them on people, but my anxiety refuses to let me. It also makes writing painful sometimes. Like tonight. Which is why I'm writing this blog post instead to rant about it.
Sometimes when I'm writing it feels like I'm flying, and I hammer out like seven thousand words in a sitting and walk away glowing, feeling like a boss. And then sometimes, like tonight, literally nothing sounds more painful than writing.
I'm struggling to put down a single chapter, let alone more than a thousand or two words. It's uncomfortable and it has me on edge.
Normally when it isn't flowing, I just do something else. Tonight I'm forcing myself to keep going, because I'm determined to put out two novellas next month, but I have to be honest, every word feels painful. Even this blog post is giving me difficulty.
Sometimes I can sit down and write about whatever is in my head--I talk about stupid tv shows I like or what I'm listening to. And sometimes that's fun. Most of the time it is. Then there are nights like this, where it feels pointless, like I'm just adding to the noise and I have nothing important or useful or meaningful to say.
The truth is, some of the joy goes out of writing once you start having to constantly stress over the financial aspects of it. I'm worried about how good my writing is or what vibes I should go for with a project, and then it's compounded with whether or not it will even sell, or how I'll get reviews for it when I can't even email a book blogger without having a mild identity crisis.
I know I'm not the only one who goes through it, either, but this can be a really lonely profession. We all feel that. I get it.
Still, it sucks.
For tonight, I'm just going to remind myself I've done this before and I can do it again, too. I've written 50,000 words in five days. I've written 75,000 words in fourteen days. I can do this. I've finished seven books, what's one more, in the grand scheme of things?
I'm going to take a deep breath. Keep writing. And hope for the best.
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