I screwed up big time on something that was a BIG DEAL to me and when the repercussions hit, I was knocked on my butt. I cried, read “Confessions of a Shopaholic” and slept. Now I’m eating Reese’s Pieces. My spirits are lifting.
The funny thing is that when something goes wrong, I immediately start mentally attacking my writing even if what happened has nothing to do with my writing. That’s what I did today, and I was ready to give up all the way.
As I was falling asleep, ideas kept popping into my head for something new.
It didn’t take me even five minutes after I woke up to start planning on what I was going to work on next and/or continue.
Ideas for current WIP keep coming.
I was ready to give up, I’d convinced myself that I was too stupid and careless to ever make it in this field, and yet, my mind kept churning out the goods.
I guess I do have the soul of a writer, and I couldn’t ever stop even if I THOUGHT I wanted to.
Once upon a time, I would have crawled into a dark, black hole and shut myself up for an indeterminable amount of time. Thank God I can’t even fathom doing something like that right now. Even though I am still reeling at my idiocy, I know I have to stop beating myself up and move on, right?
I’ve learned a valuable and expensive lesson today. It must have been meant to be.
(Originally published at Anywhere Is…)