Midnight’s Dawning
I jump around a bit in this blog because it’s interesting to contrast my attitudes of today with that naïve, optimistic, hopeful writer from over thirty years ago. Writing about him, I miss him, and the idealism he nurtured. But it wasn’t all hopefulness. Sometimes, reality snuck in to temper the enthusiasm. As occurred after I finished my novel. I started wondering why a publisher would take a chance on an unknown, untried author who’d only written book one of a proposed four-book series. A big part of this concern was genuine self-doubt. An equally big part was just how clueless I was about what to do next. I decided…
Then and Now
My book did the rounds of family (well, my brother, and a handful of cousins). One cousin gave it to his fantasy-loving friend who declared it one of the best fantasy books he’d ever read. I don’t know if he was humouring my cousin, if he was clueless, or if the praise was genuine (most writers I know often doubt praise), but it encouraged me to get back into writing. The other reason was I was just empty without it. And purposeless. After terrifying anxiety, the dread I might be losing my mind (thanks, Dr. Fuckwit), and a general feeling of inadequacy, the world was too scary to confront. But…