When I launched this web site I warned you that every now and again I would have a little moan- vent my spleen as it were. I have resisted however, as no one likes a moaner. There is nothing worse than listening to someone with ‘poor bugger me’ syndrome, acting as if they were the downtrodden heroine directly from the pages of a Catherine Cookson novel.
Yet- and you know what I’m about to say – I need a little moan. To off load. Perhaps you will indulge me; I promise I’ll be a good girl and never do it again.
So, last night I was sat at my desk at 1.30am, eating cookies, and writing. As I sat, I watched my daughter’s pet cockroaches do their very best to multiply in number against the side of their tank, wondering what else this year is going to throw at me.
Details would simply bore you, but in a nutshell- I’ve lost friends to nasty diseases, lost a large part of my hearing, had health scares, and had so many other minor things ‘going wrong’ that 2011 just seems to have decided to be the year typified by a slow drip of crap.
The reason for my late night writing session? Yesterday I was informed that due to a work ‘in house’ shake up, my main job has been re-deployed. This is management speak for giving away my job to the bosses wife. To say I have been left both shocked and feeling worthless by the people I respected doesn’t even cover it. The removal of my income doesn’t help either!
As a writer you’d think I’d be used to rejection. Every one of us has to learn to cope with being told our work isn’t good enough on occasion; and a thick skin has to be developed. At least- a thick skin has to ‘be seen to be’ developed. Most of us, if we are honest, will feel knocked when something we have worked over, sweated blood over, is turned down. Yet, we all carry on regardless, though our writing puts next to no money in our pockets, and no food on the table. Writing is an addiction, and we have to cope with all its draw backs.
Of course, a certain amount of rejection is good for us. It makes us work harder, refines our skill and hones our craft – it still stinks though!
Losing my job doesn’t compare to the loss of friends or ill health worries; and perhaps it is a blessing in disguise. I’ll have more time to write, although I fear I’ll have to give up my cushy life of writing in coffee shops, as my means of paying for the aforementioned beverage has so unexpectedly been taken away. Still, it was about time I did the de-caffeine thing.
So, enough of me harping on! By 2am last night, I realised that if I wanted to have any chance of relaxing enough to sleep, then it was time to accentuate the positives!
Writing wise, 2011 hasn’t been so bad. My first novel came out (The Perfect Submissive), as did my anthology Yes Ma’am. I have a host of short stories coming out, and Xcite are patiently awaiting the completion of my next novel. Not only that, but I’ve made a few appearances at the wonderful Sh! Women’s Stores in London to read from my erotica. (Next show is a Gay/Lesbian night on 6th Aug- details soon!)
There is no doubt that writing is an amazing gift. It allows us to collect our minds, soothe our souls, and gather our thoughts. We can rage out our anger and our hurt, without hurting others. We can stamp our metaphorical feet as we wipe away the invisible tears.
Even starting this blog at stupid o’clock in the morning helped me, and I can feel myself calming down at last after my nasty shock. I have no idea how I’ll pay my way over the next few months, but I guess I will because I always do. I have been overwhelmed by the well wishing messages and offers of help I have received from fellow writers and editors today- I appreciate every single one.
Tomorrow the smile will be back on, the upper lip will be starched, and I will continue to follow the wise words of Mr Churchill.
‘I will KBO.’
‘KBO? You ask?’
Keep Buggering On!!