I’ve finished the first 50 pages of Indigo for the WeBook contest and submitted it for judging.
It will most likely be a week or so before I start seeing feedback from
readers, and my anxiety is palpable. It’s always nerve-racking to send your
creative babies out into the world, but this one is especially difficult for
some reason. There is always fear of rejection – I think that’s natural for any
author, but Indigo gets my
blood pumping so differently than Ghosting
did. He’s been in my head for so long, nagging at me to get out, and now that I’m
doing that – it’s like telling a deeply personal secret to the world. It’s not as
though I’m baring my soul, or standing naked in the middle of a mall, but close
- I think that’s a pretty close analogy.
 |
| I'm ascerred. |
When you spend countless hours thinking, writing, reading,
re-reading, and editing the crap out of something, it’s hard not to personalize
it. It’s even harder not to internalize the characters. They live in your head – and you’re the biographer telling their story. You want to get it
right, and you want to do right by them. After all, they are trusting you to
tell it correctly. That’s a big responsibility for an author to undertake.
My own imagination brought them to life, sure. But now that
they’re here in my head, they’ve evolved into something somewhat real. They
have their own personalities, senses of humor, vices, mannerisms, histories, endearing
qualities, and character flaws (pun intended). No, I’ve not gone mad with
invisible friends. I don’t talk to them - out loud anyway, but they are always
present in some way. It’s hard to explain fully. It truly is one of the wonders
of being a writer – the ability to create these completely intangible, yet concrete
people and scenarios. And as a writer, you live with them almost all the time,
whether you want to or not.
So all I can do now is wait for the feedback and criticisms
from the contest reviewers with a mixture of excitement and dread. It’s a
horrible combination, yet delicious in its own way. In the meantime I’ll just continue
writing as though Indigo is the best thing since Shakespeare penned his
first sonnet. Until the bubble gets burst by a critic, it’s a good feeling to
have.
Considering the only work of yours I've read thus far is "Indigo", it's all that I can offer any criticism on. However! I understand fully how you feel. They're characters that, as an avid reader, I too have developed an affinity for.
ReplyDeleteBeing the proverbial mother though, I couldn't imagine the fear of rejection for them. And how you feel you must shelter them. I'll tell you this, though doll. I'm here cheering and being fully supportive for you and every one of your babies. Regardless of the method of conception.