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daidoji_giseiIt's rained almost every day this week and it's starting to get me down. I am trying to not get sucked down, but I don't think I'm doing well. It's raining, the person ordering bakery supplies at work isn't ordering us enough white flour (we've run out twice this week already and I don't know if we are going to make it through the weekend), I haven't written anything in over a week, and I was reminded yesterday that it really doesn't matter because if you want to make money with writing you write romances, and I can't write romances.
No, really, I can't write them. I can write stories where the characters have romances, but that's not the same. Romance, the genre, is defined by the Happily Ever After, the payoff, the fantasy that there is Someone Out There who loves you and wants to be your life-partner and after a series of suitably scripted problems the two of you get your denouement and ride blissfully off into the sunset. I can't write that. It's too painful to be reminded that I'm not going to get a HEA, I'm not even going to get dates, I'm not going to ever get someone to tag-team with me through life, and I'm going to die as I have lived, alone. Which sounds incredibly melodramatic when I put it down in text, but it's still true.
I need to shake this off. I have a stack of short stories in various stages of completion, there's an anthology I want to submit something too, and I still need to humiliate myself with a draft of a novel. (I still want to write what I want to write because I'm stupid. And because I have stories inside of me.) This is Nebraska so the rain can't really last forever, and sunshine will help.
No, really, I can't write them. I can write stories where the characters have romances, but that's not the same. Romance, the genre, is defined by the Happily Ever After, the payoff, the fantasy that there is Someone Out There who loves you and wants to be your life-partner and after a series of suitably scripted problems the two of you get your denouement and ride blissfully off into the sunset. I can't write that. It's too painful to be reminded that I'm not going to get a HEA, I'm not even going to get dates, I'm not going to ever get someone to tag-team with me through life, and I'm going to die as I have lived, alone. Which sounds incredibly melodramatic when I put it down in text, but it's still true.
I need to shake this off. I have a stack of short stories in various stages of completion, there's an anthology I want to submit something too, and I still need to humiliate myself with a draft of a novel. (I still want to write what I want to write because I'm stupid. And because I have stories inside of me.) This is Nebraska so the rain can't really last forever, and sunshine will help.
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Date: 2016-05-28 04:09 am (UTC)*support support*