Well, my friends, I’m less than a week out from the local May Mayhem market at the Final Stitch Boutique in Merritt Island. I’m extremely excited to be vending at the market with nine other vendors, not including the Boutique itself. But damn has it felt like an uphill journey to get here.
I don’t know what gives but, honestly, this whole year has felt like that so far. I have this nagging notion in the back of my mind that I’m not even close to measuring up to my author journey last year. I know it can’t be exactly the same, and I know I’ve planted plenty of seeds that are still coming to fruition, but at the same time it feels like failure is sitting on my shoulder and breathing on my neck. I’m not failing. I’m not. But at times it’s hard to remind myself of that.
Something about these last several months has just felt like constant high tide with no reprieve. This month in particular has seemed like an online ghost town. I’ve had no sales, minimal traffic, and the social media grind has been exhausting. With no in-person events to speak of, the online absence has been glaring. When I look at the state of the outside world, the real world, it’s not hard to see why. It’s a shit show.
My creativity and drive have also taken a hit. Rather than feeling like I’m making progress, I feel like it’s everything I can do just to tread water and keep my head above it. I’ve barely written anything. I have three chapters left to revise in Sevina Gate #2 and I just don’t have it in me. I’m not sure if I burned myself out more than I realized when I pushed to publish two books so close together, or if it’s just life taking swings. I’m still proud of releasing A Place With No Dawn earlier this year but, man, I don’t think anyone has even read it. So, like, I guess I just did it for me. That should be enough reason, right? I don’t know.
This feeling can’t last forever. I’m not going to give up. I’ve come too far and I’m much too stubborn for that, but damn. It’s hard to constantly fend off my own doubt. What am I doing wrong? Am I not actually as good of a writer as I think I am? Was everyone who has ever told me I am good wrong? Is this self-pity party even warranted? It’s probably not, so does that make this worse?
This is the raw and honest side of being a creative. No one is on the ups all the time, and if they say they are, they’re lying to someone, even if it’s themselves. I’m ready for the upswing, though, instead of feeling like I’m trying to run in a dream and am going in slow motion.
Anyway. The Mayhem market is on Sunday, 11am-4pm. I’m more than ready. For author time, for the community of it, and so I can feel like I’m having some moderate success, whether I sell anything or not. Cheers!
Aj Elmore, Author 