Last week, email, Twitter and a few other places were buzzing bright and hot with all the raging fires of highly imaginative people receiving threaded updates from the publishing side of the biz. Some authors fed the blaze with horror stories, some went quiet, others voiced worries aloud… and yes, there were a few standing ready with extinguishers.
I didn’t panic, but I did email my agent and tell her the fear was getting a little contagious. She reassured me that everything was fine, had a ready explanation, so I’m guessing quite a few writers were out there firing off questions.
And you know what?
I bet the professionals in the publishing side of things are used to this. Agents and editors work with us. Writers. Feeling brave? Think about it.
Here we sit, hour upon hour, with our own imaginations as company.
(My husband has commented on the terrifying aspect of this before. Okay, okay–often. <g>)
These imaginations of ours are great things. We all enjoy the stories that sprout from them. We can take a picture like the one above and come up with so many different stories. We willingly open that door–some of us into the darker corners– and walk through. I wouldn’t know how to live if I didn’t have this very vocal and time-stealing side of myself. And if I didn’t feed all this creative energy into stories, I’d probably end up in a corner somewhere babbling incoherently.
But that imagination can be a double-edged sword. When not basking in our created worlds, we’re still thinking. The mind is still churning. Mix that with the incredible amount of time we spend alone and what do you get?
I won’t answer. Your own imaginations can fill in the blanks.
Truth is, I will always write stories. I always have. Nothing will change that. I’ve certainly worked hard to get to this point. Had some wonderful success this year and sincerely hope to accomplish more. And I didn’t reach this point on imagination alone. Sitting down with my hands on a keyboard on a regular schedule and being willing to rewrite, polish, research– in other words, put in the time.
To do that, I had to learn to quiet that part of my mind that worries and obsesses. Of course, it’s still there–I don’t know any writers who don’t worry and obsess occasionally. But it has to be pushed aside. Muzzle it ,or if your imagination takes you into the darker areas, quiet it in your own imaginative way. (And oooh, if you come up with something cool, do share. <wg> )
Quick note: Still waiting to hear from Brittnie. I may end up having to draw another name from the MANY who entered the drawing for Rachel Vincent’s ARC of Pride, so you all stay tuned. 😉
Edit: I’m also now using this old post to store images for my sidebar. 🙂