If I may be so humble. . .

489px-EmbarrassedI’ve had time to reflect on yesterday’s blog post and feel the need to add a couple of words to it:

My bad.

May I expand on that?

As I wrote yesterday, I don’t regret my confession on this public–if unread 🙂 –forum. I think it helps to drag the ugly stuff out in the open. Unpleasant feelings tend to fade when exposed to fresh air. Couple that with the passage of time and events transpiring therein, and one will likely find herself looking at her lot in a far more positive light.

Case in point: today. This morning, I languished over a cup of coffee, emailed some good friends, then got myself dressed. Not soon after, I slogged through our snow/slush-covered roads to my mom’s house, drove her to the doctor and grocery store, took her out to lunch, drove home, put crap away, and spent some quality time playing with my beloved kitty cat. I’m at peace today, with one caveat. Hence, today’s post.

I failed to mention something in yesterday’s post and for that, I am taking myself to task. When I wrote about feeling resentful and then, jealous, of my fellow writers at Aye-dub who have reached goals they’d set for themselves, I neglected to mention how happy I initially felt for those fine writers. No, not just initially. I was, and still am, thrilled by their successes; very happy for each and every one of those people. I know some of them well. We’ve beta’d for each other, had fun together, I’ve helped with their queries and they’ve helped me with mine. There was, and is, nothing but joy and happiness in my heart when I read that Authors X, Y, or Z finally, finally are being rewarded for their efforts. I know how hard they’ve worked to get where they are.

It was only later, when I was alone with my incomplete revisions and dark thoughts, that angst sprang forth from my hardened little heart, like some evil little beastie. It tarnished my perspective and their golden moments. No rhyme or reason to it aside from me, giving in to my own selfishness, doubts, impatience, frustration, and fears. As Jen wrote yesterday, it comes with the package. Questioning our abilities, our work, and our chances is something we writers tend to do.

Speaking for myself now, it happens more than I want to admit. Yesterday, I put into words what I suspect a fair number of writers think: it’s tough sometimes being on the outside looking in, seeing the joy and delight and all that wonderful stuff being experienced by somebody close and not being able to taste it. Especially when we all know that getting an agent, and getting our stuff published, is not a given, and that even the best writers among us many never make it to the next level. Writing can be a tough business. It’s not for the faint of heart.

In the last couple of weeks, as I’ve struggled through the final revisions of my novel, I’ve found myself becoming disheartened. Frustration fueled my burgeoning unhappiness, and I began to view the success of my fellow writers as a yardstick against my own perceived failures.

But today, I see their successes as proof that good things happen to good people; fine writers, all. If it can happen to them, surely it can happen to me. What a difference a day makes, huh? Anyhoo, I just wanted to set that record straight. And, just in case anybody out there wonders if my joy at their shared happy news was strained, falsified, or otherwise ringing hollow, let me assure you, I was and am very happy for you, for each and every one of you. You are an inspiration to me, and to all of us writers waiting on the wings, breath held and fingers crossed, hoping.

9 thoughts on “If I may be so humble. . .

  1. Hey! good post today !
    I was thinking that for real each one of us has their own way to see life and their own reality, there is nothing bad to feel different do others, actually! that what makes us so unique and diverse.
    Don’t compare yourself to others! 🙂

    I like your blog by the way!


    • Thank you, Viviana.

      You are correct, of course. Even as I was allowing myself to slip into ‘jealous mode’, I knew it wasn’t good for me. That kind of thinking never is.

      Thank you for your comments, Viviana, and thank you for visiting my little blog.


  2. (((((kk))))) There’s room for both. If you wrote a character that was purely Pollyanna cheerleader, or pure jealous misery, I’d tell you to go back to revisions, because no one is so one dimensional. Not even wannabes. I’m glad you’re feeling better, even more glad you’re human enough to allow yourself the spectrum of emotions. ❤


    • Something I grapple with. As you well know.

      Today I woke up and thought, Maybe I back-peddled too much. I’m referring to this post; kind of ridiculous, but that never stopped me.


      Bottom line, I am happy for my fellow writers, but I did feel jealous and I probably will again, even knowing it serves no positive purpose, isn’t a good feeling, and isn’t a good place to be. But that’s life sometimes. Not always peaches and cream. As long as those crap days don’t linger, I think I’m okay. As for the back-peddling issue, wanting to explain my reasoning for wanting to explain. . .

      I know, mrs fringe. Hell with it.

      xoxo kk


  3. It’s good that you’re not beating yourself up over it. While most won’t admit to the feelings, we all have them at some points in our writing career. As long as you can move past them and don’t let them enter into your writing or your decision-making process, it’s OK. Be human. Experience bad feelings. Draw upon it when needed. It makes you (and what you write) more real. Good luck!


    • Don’t beat myself up over it? Then what am I supposed to do all day?


      What you say about experiencing bad feelings and drawing from them when needed is an interesting comment, blair. I read that and realized something: my mc is a personification of that. Just about every fear, doubt, and jealous thought in David Brandt’s head has been plucked straight out of the kk emotion playbook. Looking at it that way, I can see how tapping into our own wellsprings of emotions can be good for us writers.

      As long as we don’t wallow, right?


      Thanks for popping in and for your comments, blairburke. Always a pleasure.

      xoxo kk


  4. *hugs* I think your last post was very brave, and it’s one that I’m sure we can all relate to. I know I certainly can, especially when it seems like the writer didn’t even have to fight that hard a battle. But when I see stories where the writer’s first four books were trunked before the fifth made it…I feel inspired, humbled. Here I am, whining about having to trunk my first two books, and there are people out there who are beaten down over and over, only to rise again. I love stories like that.

    As for people who get publishing deals within 24 hours of their agents subbing, goddammit, I hate them so much. 😀


    • 🙂

      It’s 4 a.m. here and I’m already smiling, cowomnon.

      I’ve been working my novel (and working it, and working it. . .) and I think maybe the ending is close, if not an actual cigar. The fun is going to begin pretty quick and I mean that most facetiously–the submission to Agent X and Editors Y and Z and who knows who else. But first, I need to send my manuscript to some of the very people I am sometimes jealous of. And hope what? That they never read that post? That they read it and forgive me? That they actually don’t give a crap because they’ve been there, too? Regardless, I’m grateful and humbled.

      As you are, cowomnon, and rightly so.

      xo kk


Questions? Comments? Concerns? :)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s