How Depression Ruined My Book Release

I have pondered on how to write this entry for several days, but words have simply failed me. I don’t know how to put my feelings into words. Partly because my feelings are all over the place, and partly because depression tends to suck away my powers as a wordsmith. Hell, depression sucks away everything I love.

I have been depressed, pretty deeply depressed, for a month. If not longer. Depression has a way of making time seem longer than it is. I’ve gone though all the daily motions on autopilot because it’s just what you do, but there’s that ever-present cloud over my head, and any time I settle down and take a moment to breathe, I’m swallowed by the fog. 

You would think that I would be happy, ecstatic even, right now because holy shit, I just published my second novel! But nope, I feel worse than I have in longer than I can remember, and surprisingly, part of it is because of the novel. I know, it sounds absolutely ridiculous, but that’s the nature of depression; it lies to you. It fills your head with bullshit, and damn, my head has been chock full of it lately. 

Instead of feeling proud of my accomplishment, rather than having any sense of success, I have felt like a failure. 

There are a multitude of reasons, some of them I won’t get into here because they are intensely personal, and I absolutely don’t know how to articulate them, nor do I think they are appropriate to broadcast on the Internet, but mostly the depression voices in my head have been so loud I’ve been unable to tune them out. 

It’s hard to feel like you’ve done something big, something important, when your brain is constantly telling you it’s not good enough, or no one is going to like it, or you’ll never sell enough copies no matter how many you sell, or whatever thousands of reasons it gives you for how you’ll never be enough. I tweeted a few days ago, “I’m 90% self-doubt lately,” and I think that’s pretty goddamned accurate. 

It sucks. It fucking sucks. Because I love this book. I worked so hard on this book. I poured so much of myself and my beliefs and what I want for the world into this book. I think it’s good. I really, really do. I think, or at least I hope, that those who actually take the time to read it will think it’s good, too. I poured a year of my life into it. Hours and hours nearly every single day of work, and I can guaran-damn-tee you, I thought about it pretty much every waking moment. It was my entire life. 

So to suddenly feel like I failed, for no real reason other than my jacked-up brain telling me so really, really sucks. 

I have journaled and journaled every day to try and overcome this feeling, and I am miles better than I was even this time last week. I spiraled out of control for the first couple of days after the release. I wanted to just crawl into a hole and die, and it’s so infuriating because I should have been celebrating. I should have been joyous and proud of my achievement, but nope. 

It has made me question my entire decision to be an author, which is the most enraging thing of all. I have wanted to be an author my entire life. I am one of those people that has never, ever questioned what they were going to do with their life. It’s like a calling. For a few days, I was convinced I should just pack it in and call it quits. That there was no real reason to keep writing because no one really wants to read my words. Essentially, I’m pissing in the wind.

It took me a while, but I eventually remembered that even if that’s true, that’s not a reason to stop. Of course I want people to read, but the real reason I write is to tell the story. It’s about the story. It’s about the craft. I write because I love it. I love the act of writing. I write because it makes me feel whole. I love stringing words together. I love the mechanics of sentences, the structure of paragraphs. I love plotting stories and creating characters. I have so many stories and characters inside my head that need to get out. It’s that simple. Even if another person never reads a single word I write, that’s okay. It’s about the story. It’s about the craft. 

It took me twenty-plus years to get up the nerve to finally put my work out there in the world for people to read, and in a matter of moments, depression filled me with so much self-doubt, all of that went out the window. Suddenly, I wasn’t good enough. I’ll never be good enough no matter how hard I work. No matter how many hours a week I work or what sort of work I produce, I’ll never be good enough, so I might as well just quit.

To give up would be a form of killing myself. That might sound extreme, but it’s the truth. Writing is such a core part of who I am that if I stopped, it would be like killing a part of myself. But isn’t that what depression wants? Well, I refuse to listen, just as I’ve done so many other times in my life. I refuse to give in. 

I might not be okay right now, but I will be. Because I always am.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this other than to say that depression is the worst. It ruins everything it touches. It sucks away the joy of the most wonderful things in your life. And anyone who ever says, “You just need to choose to be happier!” needs to just shut the fuck up, because they clearly don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground. 

But anyway, if you’ve read this far, thank you. Thank you for always supporting me. If you’re one of the lovely people who has purchased a copy of Growth Spurt, please know that you’ve helped me infinitely to get through this stupid damned depression. And I’m not saying that in a “pity me, please buy my book” sense, but in an honest-to-God sense. You’re really, truly giving me a reason to keep going. To keep writing. I love you all.

How Depression Ruined My Book Release

I have pondered on how to write this entry for several days, but words have simply failed me. I don’t know how to put my feelings into words. Partly because my feelings are all over the place, and partly because depression tends to suck away my powers as a wordsmith. Hell, depression sucks away everything I love.

I have been depressed, pretty deeply depressed, for a month. If not longer. Depression has a way of making time seem longer than it is. I’ve gone though all the daily motions on autopilot because it’s just what you do, but there’s that ever-present cloud over my head, and any time I settle down and take a moment to breathe, I’m swallowed by the fog. 

You would think that I would be happy, ecstatic even, right now because holy shit, I just published my second novel! But nope, I feel worse than I have in longer than I can remember, and surprisingly, part of it is because of the novel. I know, it sounds absolutely ridiculous, but that’s the nature of depression; it lies to you. It fills your head with bullshit, and damn, my head has been chock full of it lately. 

Instead of feeling proud of my accomplishment, rather than having any sense of success, I have felt like a failure. 

There are a multitude of reasons, some of them I won’t get into here because they are intensely personal, and I absolutely don’t know how to articulate them, nor do I think they are appropriate to broadcast on the Internet, but mostly the depression voices in my head have been so loud I’ve been unable to tune them out. 

It’s hard to feel like you’ve done something big, something important, when your brain is constantly telling you it’s not good enough, or no one is going to like it, or you’ll never sell enough copies no matter how many you sell, or whatever thousands of reasons it gives you for how you’ll never be enough. I tweeted a few days ago, “I’m 90% self-doubt lately,” and I think that’s pretty goddamned accurate. 

It sucks. It fucking sucks. Because I love this book. I worked so hard on this book. I poured so much of myself and my beliefs and what I want for the world into this book. I think it’s good. I really, really do. I think, or at least I hope, that those who actually take the time to read it will think it’s good, too. I poured a year of my life into it. Hours and hours nearly every single day of work, and I can guaran-damn-tee you, I thought about it pretty much every waking moment. It was my entire life. 

So to suddenly feel like I failed, for no real reason other than my jacked-up brain telling me so really, really sucks. 

I have journaled and journaled every day to try and overcome this feeling, and I am miles better than I was even this time last week. I spiraled out of control for the first couple of days after the release. I wanted to just crawl into a hole and die, and it’s so infuriating because I should have been celebrating. I should have been joyous and proud of my achievement, but nope. 

It has made me question my entire decision to be an author, which is the most enraging thing of all. I have wanted to be an author my entire life. I am one of those people that has never, ever questioned what they were going to do with their life. It’s like a calling. For a few days, I was convinced I should just pack it in and call it quits. That there was no real reason to keep writing because no one really wants to read my words. Essentially, I’m pissing in the wind.

It took me a while, but I eventually remembered that even if that’s true, that’s not a reason to stop. Of course I want people to read, but the real reason I write is to tell the story. It’s about the story. It’s about the craft. I write because I love it. I love the act of writing. I write because it makes me feel whole. I love stringing words together. I love the mechanics of sentences, the structure of paragraphs. I love plotting stories and creating characters. I have so many stories and characters inside my head that need to get out. It’s that simple. Even if another person never reads a single word I write, that’s okay. It’s about the story. It’s about the craft. 

It took me twenty-plus years to get up the nerve to finally put my work out there in the world for people to read, and in a matter of moments, depression filled me with so much self-doubt, all of that went out the window. Suddenly, I wasn’t good enough. I’ll never be good enough no matter how hard I work. No matter how many hours a week I work or what sort of work I produce, I’ll never be good enough, so I might as well just quit.

To give up would be a form of killing myself. That might sound extreme, but it’s the truth. Writing is such a core part of who I am that if I stopped, it would be like killing a part of myself. But isn’t that what depression wants? Well, I refuse to listen, just as I’ve done so many other times in my life. I refuse to give in. 

I might not be okay right now, but I will be. Because I always am.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this other than to say that depression is the worst. It ruins everything it touches. It sucks away the joy of the most wonderful things in your life. And anyone who ever says, “You just need to choose to be happier!” needs to just shut the fuck up, because they clearly don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground. 

But anyway, if you’ve read this far, thank you. Thank you for always supporting me. If you’re one of the lovely people who has purchased a copy of Growth Spurt, please know that you’ve helped me infinitely to get through this stupid damned depression. And I’m not saying that in a “pity me, please buy my book” sense, but in an honest-to-God sense. You’re really, truly giving me a reason to keep going. To keep writing. I love you all.

This is Why.

This morning, I got one of the most affirming compliments from a reader that an author can receive. (This is copy and pasted): “Many years ago when I used to live in my country (Dominican Rep) I used to write. I had some poems, a couple of short stories, but unfortunately I lost all my creations. Now I feel like the spark to write again, and guess who did I get that spark from? You!”

This is why I don’t define my success by the amount of money I make or whether or not I have a best-seller. Success, to me, is made up of little moments like this. 

An Author’s Thanksgiving

It’s Thanksgiving here in the United States, so the timing of this post is serendipitous. I have been meaning to write something like this for a couple of weeks now, but I’ve been caught up in NaNoWriMo, and I’ve just plain struggled to find the words. I’m still not sure I’ll be able to adequately articulate what I want to say.

I suppose I’ll just say it as simply and as bluntly as I can.

I want to thank every single person who has supported me along my journey as an author, whether that be in small ways just by sending me an encouraging tweet some point along the way or whether you have bought and reviewed every single one of my works. Because of you, I am doing what I love.

I’m not gonna lie, I would be writing regardless, but because there are people out there who actually care – who actually read what I write – it’s given my life purpose. It’s given me the courage to go after what I really want and put my words out there for the world to either embrace or reject.

Just a few years ago, the bane of my adult existence was being asked the question, “What do you do?” because, as a chronically ill person who is unable to work a “normal” job, that question literally sent me into a suicidal spiral. I’m not joking when I say I would walk away from said interaction and question why I was alive for days, if not weeks, afterward. Every. Single. Time.

I always knew I wanted to write, from the moment I learned how, but I never really knew how to put it into practice until the last few years. And it has completely changed my life. Sure, I’m not at a point where I can sustainably live off the income I make from it, but perhaps one day. Besides, that’s never been my definition of success. (One of) My definition(s) of success is being able to answer the “What do you do?” question with a proud “I’m an author!” and not want to crawl into a hole and die. 

If it wasn’t for those of you who are willing to spend a few bucks on my work, take the time out of your day to read it, and then leave feedback somewhere for me to find it, I wouldn’t be able to do that. I wouldn’t be able to finally feel like I’m doing something. Like I’ve found my purpose. (Not that anyone is defined by their job, but you’re often defined by your passion, and writing is my passion.)

So, thank you for caring about what I do. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for giving me a reason to keep going. That’s what I’m thankful for this year and every year. I love you all, and I hope you’ll keep reading as long as I keep writing. 

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. I hope you have a hell of a lot to be thankful for, too. xoxo

NaNoWriMo 2015!

Are you ready? ‘Cause I’m ready! 😁

If we are not already writing buddies, let’s do it. I’m sayhedgehog over on the NaNo site, and I want to cheer you on!

Remember y’all, it isn’t so much about making that 50K word count as it is about writing something, *anything*, that you didn’t have before. And of course, having fun while you do it! If you can do that, then your NaNoWriMo experience is a success no matter what!

Whether this is your first year or your sixth year like it is for me, we can do this, y’all! 👍👍

Putting It Out There

Beta readers are currently reading ‘Growth Spurt’, so I’m in that state of suspended animation full of stress and anxiety and a little bit of terror over what must be going through their heads while they read this work that has, up until now, been (mostly) my own.

That being said, I am also doing my own final read through of the book after having let it sit for a few weeks, and I am really, really proud of it. Yeah, it’s always terrifying to put your hard work out there for people to criticize, but I feel like I’ve done a good job with this book. I really, really do. More than anything I’ve written before. I like it. I like it a lot, and I hope you will, too.

Putting It Out There

Beta readers are currently reading ‘Growth Spurt’, so I’m in that state of suspended animation full of stress and anxiety and a little bit of terror over what must be going through their heads while they read this work that has, up until now, been (mostly) my own.

That being said, I am also doing my own final read through of the book after having let it sit for a few weeks, and I am really, really proud of it. Yeah, it’s always terrifying to put your hard work out there for people to criticize, but I feel like I’ve done a good job with this book. I really, really do. More than anything I’ve written before. I like it. I like it a lot, and I hope you will, too.

My little workspace is really coming together. 

Of course I’ve got my gorgeous desk, but I was also gifted this amazing Erin Condren planner last week by my BFF, Bronny. I have been having a blast figuring out what planning method works best for me. I know there are ladies out there who use tons of super adorable stickers and things to plan, and while I love that aesthetic, I don’t know if that’s for me, really. Mostly because I’m one of those people who only buys things I *need* (for the most part), and so it makes buying a lot of stickers and things really hard to justify. I might try hitting up some dollar stores in my area and seeing what I can find, but mostly I think I’m just going to decorate it in my own way with doodles and things. We’ll see. It’s only been two weeks, so I’ve got plenty of time to figure out what method works best for me. 

I’m mostly just really excited to hopefully be more productive and organized in my artistic and everyday life. I’m definitely the sort of person who does better and stays more motivated when I can see my tasks/goals written down in front of me. And I’m excited to see how many words I write per year, too. Once I get out of rewrites, that is. It’s also in perfect time for NaNoWriMo, so yay for that! 😀

I’ve posted a few pictures just to show y’all what I’ve done with it so far. I’m also keeping a list of movies I’ve watched in the notes section of the planner. I’ve always meant to do that, but never have, so it’ll be cool to have a record of that. 

Today, my aunt brought over a hand-me-down bookshelf. We’ve had this thing in my family house for as long as I can remember. She recently painted it red, which is cool, but she didn’t want it anymore, so now it’s mine. I’m super happy to have it because it got rid of a TON of clutter out of my bedroom/workspace (it’s the same space). It’s one step closer to having a cleaner/more organized house. 

You may be wondering why I don’t have a huge collection of books on this shelf. Well, that’s because a couple of years ago, I donated 99% of my books to a hospital library because I just plain prefer ebooks nowadays. I only kept a select few that are either reference books, anthologies, collections, or my partners books. I know there are probably a lot of you screaming right now because you’re die hard paper book lovers, and I’m with you. I love paper books, too. I love the smell, the feeling – all the things that come along with “real” books. But I love ebooks, too. I love that I can have an entire library at my fingertips 24/7 without taking up more than a few inches of space (one of the major problems with my physical book collection seeing as I have very limited space). I love that I can get any book I want in seconds without leaving my house. I love that I can read comfortably anywhere. I love that I can highlight and take notes in any book I’m reading (I would never do that in a physical book.) And I love that I can define words and phrases right from the device. There’s a ton of other reasons why I prefer ebooks nowadays, but the one downside is that I don’t get to take pretty bookshelf photos. 😉 So, anyway, that’s the story of where all my books went. 

It’s funny how much having a pleasant/organized work area has an effect on your motivation and productivity. I find myself wanting to be here more than I ever have. Gotta love it. 😉

My little workspace is really coming together. 

Of course I’ve got my gorgeous desk, but I was also gifted this amazing Erin Condren planner last week by my BFF, Bronny. I have been having a blast figuring out what planning method works best for me. I know there are ladies out there who use tons of super adorable stickers and things to plan, and while I love that aesthetic, I don’t know if that’s for me, really. Mostly because I’m one of those people who only buys things I *need* (for the most part), and so it makes buying a lot of stickers and things really hard to justify. I might try hitting up some dollar stores in my area and seeing what I can find, but mostly I think I’m just going to decorate it in my own way with doodles and things. We’ll see. It’s only been two weeks, so I’ve got plenty of time to figure out what method works best for me. 

I’m mostly just really excited to hopefully be more productive and organized in my artistic and everyday life. I’m definitely the sort of person who does better and stays more motivated when I can see my tasks/goals written down in front of me. And I’m excited to see how many words I write per year, too. Once I get out of rewrites, that is. It’s also in perfect time for NaNoWriMo, so yay for that! 😀

I’ve posted a few pictures just to show y’all what I’ve done with it so far. I’m also keeping a list of movies I’ve watched in the notes section of the planner. I’ve always meant to do that, but never have, so it’ll be cool to have a record of that. 

Today, my aunt brought over a hand-me-down bookshelf. We’ve had this thing in my family house for as long as I can remember. She recently painted it red, which is cool, but she didn’t want it anymore, so now it’s mine. I’m super happy to have it because it got rid of a TON of clutter out of my bedroom/workspace (it’s the same space). It’s one step closer to having a cleaner/more organized house. 

You may be wondering why I don’t have a huge collection of books on this shelf. Well, that’s because a couple of years ago, I donated 99% of my books to a hospital library because I just plain prefer ebooks nowadays. I only kept a select few that are either reference books, anthologies, collections, or my partners books. I know there are probably a lot of you screaming right now because you’re die hard paper book lovers, and I’m with you. I love paper books, too. I love the smell, the feeling – all the things that come along with “real” books. But I love ebooks, too. I love that I can have an entire library at my fingertips 24/7 without taking up more than a few inches of space (one of the major problems with my physical book collection seeing as I have very limited space). I love that I can get any book I want in seconds without leaving my house. I love that I can read comfortably anywhere. I love that I can highlight and take notes in any book I’m reading (I would never do that in a physical book.) And I love that I can define words and phrases right from the device. There’s a ton of other reasons why I prefer ebooks nowadays, but the one downside is that I don’t get to take pretty bookshelf photos. 😉 So, anyway, that’s the story of where all my books went. 

It’s funny how much having a pleasant/organized work area has an effect on your motivation and productivity. I find myself wanting to be here more than I ever have. Gotta love it. 😉

Current workspace.