Where to start. Ugh. Where to start, indeed.
Well, I have fluffed an idea which appears to be taking over for the previous intended book in the Cryptid Series. Its working title is The God Trip. It has potential, and I think I can use as a theme the Urban Dictionary definition. There’s one problem:
The fire to even get a manuscript started is gone.
Now, I have gotten a ray of hope from the coiner of the initialism IABOS, author C.A. Hocking. Her IABOS is finally receding! While this pushes off my ten-published-books-by-50 goal out to a ten-published-books-by-60 goal.
Well, if I make it to sixty. Which doesn’t look as good as it should.
This week, I beta read the second season of Adam Dreece’s Wizard Killer. I love his worlds. I just . . . I really love getting to journey into his imagination! And Book 5 of Adam’s Yellow Hoods series is imminent.
Through the haze of exhaustion and burnout and allergies (snif!), I am happy for the authors I know. My head says, “Get cracking at your reviews, lady!”
I want to review. I really have ugly burnout. Today, I wrote a review which was two short paragraphs. Maybe six or seven sentences. I took an hour to make it make sense. AN HOUR?! (This is worthy of an interrobang to me; I am a speed-writer. I can pull 20K words out of my bu–, uh, my brain in a 10-hour marathon sitting.)
Not writing feels . . . wrong.
However, I’m also deeply dejected. I think that I really had the Dome Trilogy in me–which isn’t that good. I can string words together and even research pretty efficiently and quickly. But . . . it’s not enough.
I don’t get lost in my worlds anymore. They’re not vivid daydreams with fantastic setting details any more. I think Man and Brother and even ‘Til Undeath suffered from that. My settings . . . well, it’s all chatting and drama.
And there’s no actual response to Man and Brother, save for a review on Amazon which is for ANOTHER FREAKING AUTHOR!! Then again, this person did buy my book. Verified purchase and everything. But I am almost to tears that no one gives a shit. That I must have written something not bad enough to be beaten up and not good enough to be reviewed.
And did I kill my series with it, along with my ability to put anything to page–paper or digital? I am flailing, and I really don’t have a reason to expect reviews when I haven’t written any in so long.
I am so tired. Ugh. Maybe I need to take a little God trip for a weekend or even a day and go wherever the wind blows me.