I've Got This ... Maybe?

This is how I was feeling yesterday while trying to work on my book. I couldn't find the flow of it, struggled to find my character's voice, fumbled around. I have a list of scenes, all organized and ready to be written. I know what needs to come next. However, knowing what scenes are needed and what's happening in the scenes doesn't mean they are easy to write.

I know what needs to be said, I'm just having trouble saying it.

I went back to book one, read some of the scenes from this character, read over her notes ... went back to writing. Finally, like magic, the story started to take over. Words were coming to me, Ainslie Garbhan started to speak for herself with little effort from me ...

Then, to my left, I heard a click, click, click sound. My flow stumbled, my concentration broke. I lost that precarious hold I had on my Writer's Zone.

ARGH!! I cannot write with someone in the room with me. I can't write while my fiance is home. I found my Zone, but only briefly yesterday. I'm easily distracted.

He's asleep on the bed behind me now ... do I dare open my word processor?

Oh, I dare. I have a book to finish!

I've been awake since 6:45 when my alarm went off. James made me coffee and went back to bed. I love him. Then, I did that thing I'm always so scared to do: I got online and looked for agents!

I had every intention of sending out a dozen query letters today. Every intention.

I've sent one, then went hunting for more literary agents and got discouraged. It's so hard to find them! They are all over the internet, yet I struggle to find any that sound like they may be interested. I get scared, I hesitate. Then I think, "Okay, one is enough! Time to do some writing!!"

Because I'm not a people person. Because I suck at selling myself and my work. But I'm great at making up stories and people and writing about them.

I haven't focused enough on trying to get published, because I lack confidence and faith that it will ever happen. I know that the reason I am not making a living from my writing seven whatever years after finishing that first book is because of me. My fault. I can't just send a query letter once every few years. I've got to send out dozens every few months to different agents and work hard to find one who believes in my writing as much as I do.

Maybe I'll be like all the greats who died before they were famous. Fame isn't really what I'm aiming for, I just want to be able to make money to pay my bills by writing. I want to be paid to do what I do best: write. It's what I love, it's the only real thing I'm good at.

Besides playing Dragon Age Inquisition.

And reading. I'm GREAT at reading.

Three hours after my alarm, and I've sent out one query letter, wrote a blog, and am sitting here feeling pretty discouraged. Crying even. How did J. K. Rowling deal with rejection? Karen Marie Moning ... did she get rejected a lot before someone believed in her? J. R. Ward?

Books like Outlander and Twilight and 50 Shades exist, and people publish/read this crap. I'm confident enough in my writing to know that my book is better than those. Someone bought those books, someone will eventually buy mine.

Wipe away the tears, lift my chin, grab another cup of coffee, and face that next scene starring Ainslie Garbhan. She's a character worth fighting for. I will not give up.

I will NEVER give up.