Keep on Truckin, Little Buddy…and Other Bullshit

This is not a blog post. I know it looks like one, but it is not. This is a tantrum. It’s a ‘why the hell can’t my life just go the way I planned for once’ rant. An immature, annoying, whiny tirade that screams ‘it’s not fair’. It’s also slightly on the ‘why do you insist on doing the things that annoy me most’ sort of article…but it’s not an article either.

Why? You ask. Things are going well for you. Didn’t you post the ‘what I accomplished in 2010’ thing the other day? I swear you were happy and all proud and shit then. WTF?

Here, have a cookie. Clive’s waving, you better say hello. Now sit back. It’s going to be a lengthy…thing. We call this place The Edge for a reason folks. It’s the EDGE of (IN)SANITY. Please don’t expect anything here to make sense. The cornerstone of insanity is the stubborn refusal to see logic and reason.

I am proud of what I’ve done in the past year. Hell, I’m damn proud of what I’ve done in the past three years. My problem is that now that I’ve gotten here, where do I go? I’m getting paid to write, but not what I want to write. That’s okay, it will come. (my mother’s voice of reason) I’m home, with my kids as I always wanted to be, doing what I love to do. But my kids don’t seem to differentiate ‘work time’ and ‘mom time’. Actually…Kurt can’t do that either. That’s okay too, they’ll adjust in time. (my mothers voice again) I’ve got three really awesome manuscripts polished and making the rounds, but damn it, they just keep making the fucking rounds. I swear one more rejection with “Loved the writing and the concept…but just not right for us right now. Keep on trucking, buddy” I might add names to The List. That’s okay, it only takes one ‘yes’. (every optimistic author I’ve ever heard’s voice of reason)

I’m out of ideas folks. I’m out of motivation. I tried to make my list of goals for the year and I crapped out. Nothing. Nada. Zip. I’ve gotten to the bottom of the barrel and there isn’t even a lick of can-do attitude left.

I can’t see anywhere else I can branch out in order to move forward. That is my problem. What the hell do I do now? Keep doing what you’re doing. Yeah, thanks Einstein.

I know life isn’t fair. I know that. I say it all the time. “Suck it up,” is my favourite line. But sometimes, we’re full to the top and sucking anymore might cause us to explode. Sometimes it seems the universe is out to hand you one rotten pile of crap after another. I’ve been the cliche ‘writer type’ lately. Moody, grumpy, quick to anger, and then, just when I don’t need to read it, I find blog after blog, article after article, on self publishing and I want to strangle their happy “we’re so awesome and shit” little necks. Really. I do. Why so harsh on the self-pubbies? I don’t know. Probably because I’m partly resentful, partly tempted, and a lot sick of hearing how great it is when really, it’s not any more or less great than traditional publishing. Sure, I keep up to 90% of the profits, but 90% of the time, that’s 90% of nothing. I already have that. I don’t want to just hold my book in my hands. Shit, if that were the case I’d be done writing. There’s no real motivation behind such a desire. I want to publish, and then I want to publish again, and again. I want people to actually read my books. I want them to love it, hate it, call me a crazy bitch, a hack, I don’t care as long as they’re reading. 

(FYI: That was the ‘why do you insist on annoying me’ part of the tantrum)

Oh, don’t drink that it’s-never mind. It won’t kill you. In the future, don’t drink anything without a label here.

So, I feel better. You? The point of this whole bunch of nonsense? This is my state of mind about every three or four months. Each time the queries start resulting in rejections. I get angry, insulted, frustrated and just a little depressed. I examine all that I’m doing and try to figure out what I’m doing wrong. Then, everything turns back to happy when I realize how much I’m doing right. I’m not really this dramatic. That was for effect. I like to act. Did you enjoy it? Believe it? Good.

I thought it would be nice to show everyone that it’s lonely trying to get published. For all of us. We’re not perfect, and sometimes we’re allowed to act like whiny children and vent to get rid of the stress. It gets tough, it gets frustrating and it’s not fair. Do we quit? Never. I may not be able to move forward, but that won’t stop me from pushing. It shouldn’t stop you either.

11 thoughts on “Keep on Truckin, Little Buddy…and Other Bullshit

  1. Thanks. I know it will happen eventually, but I'm human, just like everyone else. Usually the tantrum-period is much worse than this. I toned it down just a little. Not as much profanity or threats. They tend to scare people away. 😛

  2. reat Rant, Renee. Here…have a Margarita. Ignore the Quervo floating on top.Okay, rant over, drink drunk, or was that drunk drink? Oh Hell, lets have another and get back to writing.

  3. Okay, here goes. I know that self-publishing isn't all wonderful and the cure for everything. Most self-publishers are never going to make big bucks. But I still plan to self-publish. Why? Because I couldn't stand to go through the crap that's driving you crazy. Three novels? How about putting one of them up on Smashwords and Amazon? Why? A few sales, maybe a few reviews and word of mouth. And it's *out there*. If you have any short stories or novellas that publishers won't touch, put a couple up there for free, along with the reasonably priced novel. Why limit yourself to one way that isn't working, if you can also dip your toes into one that might?

  4. Interesting point of view, Catana. And you do make sense. I believe nothing worth having comes without a bit of hard work and the hard work doesn't end with "the end". I get that there are a lot of authors who don't want to put up with the roller coaster of traditional publishing and I'll admit to feeling somewhat envious at those of you who bite the bullet and say "Fuck it." and do it on your own. As of yet, I don't have the balls to do that. My motivation for not self publishing is that I've worked really hard to be where I am today in terms of 'the road to publishing'. I've been tempted to put a couple of things up, but then I worry I'll sabotage all of my hard work. Basically, the Irish in me refuses to admit I'm licked. Although, short fiction isn't a bad idea. I do have folders of short stories just sitting there, collecting dust. The three novels I have finished, well they have a huge chunk of my soul in them and I want them to have the distribution I feel my soul deserves, so I won't put them on Smashwords.

  5. If ever I become a literary agent (I won't) I'm not going to bother writing a nice rejection letter. I'm just going to have thousands of postcards printed up that simply say: "You Suck" – because even though that's entirely untrue, that's how it feels. Every single time. I know. And I get you on self publishing. Well, good to know you're going to hang in there, baby (sorry, couldn't resist). And if it makes you feel any better—getting published just brings on a whole lot of new rant-worthy material.

  6. Haha. YOu know, I think You Suck postcards would be awesome. Just straight to the point. No bullshitting around. I like that. I look forward to the published rants. These unpublished rants aren't as satisfying anymore. Margarita? Maria brought Doritos. Sorry but the zesty ones are mine.

  7. I find 'Theakston's Old Peculiar' an ideal remedy for the rejection letter – you begin to look forward to them. Seriously, persevere. Better a rejection than not submitting

  8. I will have to check out this "Old Peculiar". Honestly, since I switched to vodka, I'm enjoying the rejection a bit more. Good thing they come in bunches, and only ever couple of months. And good point. Better to get that rejection than doing nothing at all. I agree.

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