I finally got some sleep and am feeling a bit saner overall.
I was thinking yesterday while I was half asleep and feeling dreamy about the many ways I stand in my own way.
What I was thinking about most of the day was (of course) trying harder to keep my writing life sustainable and I started down the anxiety making path of trying to figure out a.) what the fuck I mean by that and b.) why the fuck am I torturing myself about it like some asshole boss?
Over the past few years I’ve done a lot of things that made me feel uncomfortable and scared. I wrote for pay and learned how to deal with being hate read and generally made fun of because of various reasons. That was the first time anyone asked me to write about something I’m pretty passionate about for money. It was fucking terrifying and I did it. I even will call it an overall success because I saw people do wonderful things, help each other and generally be awesome in what could have been a cesspool.
I’ve learned (sorta) how to pitch. I pitched this piece and well it wasn’t awful. I have had a few pitches rejected and some ignored. But I sorta figured it out.
I’ve been trying (completely unsuccessfully) to break into SF/F and I’ve sort of had enough of that. I’ll talk about that more next week.
I am putting out a book on indie press. A new and improved version of my Self Care Like a Boss book.
I’ve made difficult decisions.
The most difficult has been to not do more freelance. So I started the Patreon thing.
And okay real talk.
I still feel some type of way about doing Patreon.
I had some very specific goals in mind when I started doing Patreon and more actively looking for donations. I have to constantly remind myself that it’s okay to ask for support and to get paid for my work even if it means it’s not stuff getting published by mainstream lit.
I’ve written things that even maybe five years ago I wouldn’t have dared to for fear that I would indeed be ruining my little bit of a career. I wrote something that reached out to people and that felt pretty good.
I’ve been working on a piece about trying to get over Poverty Brain.
And here I am stuck in that place.
Rationally I realize that counting my commute, dayjob and any writing work I do on my phone at home I’m doing 14 hour days. I am dealing with my chronic insomnia as well as I can. I’m being the breadwinner at home and sort of doing okay at it.
But, I’m running around looking for some kind of freelance thing I can do, I’m doing my get paid to click shit, pushing some referral type things because I need some things and given how rocky finances have been this year, being shit scared to take that money out of my household budget because what if shit happens?
I know that I find it difficult to write when I am in this frame of mind. I’m trying to calm my shit down but it’s hard.
I caught myself on Friday looking for a part time job. I know damn well that I can’t do that. My health wouldn’t tolerate it. And frankly unless it was pretty high paying, it wouldn’t be financially worth the extra trouble. I was able to make myself stop and think about how terrible of an idea it was.
That’s progress for me.
I’m mostly saying this for myself. I keep falling down this I’m not doing enough to support my whole patreon/things problem and I want to not.
I have shit to write.
I should get out of my own way.
Next week I’m doing another big ole nerdy book review. I’ll talk about some plans I have and stuff.
Okay that’s all back to that grind.