**Be warned: I’m about to ramble, and it’s possible that there’s no point to this blog post.**
A friend of mine (I’m looking at you Cj) told me I should blog more, even if it’s just about random things I’m feeling because we always think we’re alone in this world (especially the writing one, because we literally are, sitting in an office alone most days with only a virtual connection to our colleagues). So, here I am, taking her advice, because she’s my Yoda and I’m going to ramble a bit about the world as I see it.
I’m a bit of a sporadic blogger, I go through times when all I do is put some information up about upcoming releases, and then at other times, I’m on here all the time, trying to find interesting things to share and talk about.
On Facebook, the majority of my feed is basically the same, although I have a penchant for sharing funny images or news articles because I love to have a laugh. I don’t get involved in any sort of public rants and one of my pet hates are those posts that are so vague that even your closest friend has no idea what you’re on about.
Twitter, is so fast moving, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do, so I tweet about books. And instagram, well, occasionally, there’s a photo worth sharing. But most of the time, there isn’t, because I spend most of my time, sitting on my arse, typing away doing the thing I love–writing books.
So, essentially, I really do think I suck at this social media thing. I try hard to be entertaining, but more often than not, I’m not feeling particularly entertaining at all. You see, I’m just a person, and I’m struggling along, trying to write enough to keep readers happy and to keep up with the ridiculously fast pace of Bookworld. And on top of that, I’m trying to be a mother to my four kids and a wife to my husband.
It’s hard, and there are a lot of demands on my time, and I seriously feel like this most days –
But then I talk to some of my writer friends, and guess what? We’re all feeling the same way. We’re all feeling beat down by our inner critic that’s telling us we’re crap, or we’re not doing enough, or that no one will ever like our stories. We all seem to have a fear that we’re a flash in the pan and that we’re going to get lost in tidal wave of books that are available these days.
I seriously, feel incredibly blessed that somehow, someone picked up A Beautiful Struggle and started reading it, and then someone else did, and someone else did. Never, when I was writing it, did I actually think that two years later, I’d have made a career out of writing. And never did I think, that it would be quite this hard.
And it’s not that I’m complaining, in fact, I couldn’t imagine having any other job. I freaking love my job. And the fact that I work so hard, is attributed to the fact that I am passionate about my writing, and I’d rather be working than doing anything else. And I suppose, in my rambling way (this is why we have editors, people 😉 ) what I’m trying to do with this post, is to simply say – me too. I’m stressed too. Other writers, other mums, other dads, or carers, or students–anyone, who works their arse off and flops into bed every night with 6,452 things still to do on their list–I just want to say, I get it. I feel stressed and overwhelmed too. But I’m doing my best. And really, that’s all any of us can do.