galadhir replied to your post “Look. I
Jun. 3rd, 2016 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/1X3eZsb:galadhir replied to your post “Look. I don’t have a favorite task at work, because literally all I do…”
You write really well. Have you considered writing original fic and self publishing? (I can help with covers and stuff.) Also you hold down a steady job and help family members to do so too. That sounds pretty amazing to me.
I am probably going through my usual PMS-related Why Is There Anything, Also Everything That Exists Personally Disapproves Of Me angst, which is getting depressingly regular+severe as I advance through my thirties, but knowing that doesn’t help, especially when it winds up meaning that No Emotions I Experience Are Valid Unless I Run Them By A Trained Professional First (which is the current official stance in my ahem household, and is extra-shitty because I don’t have any trained professionals on retainer, and you know, the things that bother you at times like this aren’t nothing, it’s just that you’re no longer able to lie to yourself in moments like this. Except sometimes, when it turns out you really can’t rely on your own interpretation of events, but I have yet to discover how on earth one is to get literally anything done if you just operate on the assumption that none of your own reality is real, I would appreciate pointers).
Anyway. I haven’t spiraled into utter dissipation yet, by the grace of what I don’t know, but let’s be real, having a Dude who makes literally five times what I do per hour (even when I don’t count my volunteer labor at $0; no, this was back when I was full-time at the camera store) is the only reason I’m not destitute.
I would dearly love to self-publish, but all the figures I’ve seen about what one could actually make doing so seem so low as to mean that I couldn’t replace even my pathetic half-time income that way, so I’d still have to work at the camera store and would still be stuck with my agonizing 300-mile bilocation problem. It would just mean in effect that I’d have to give up writing fanfic, which is about the only high point I currently have in my sordid existence, and wouldn’t be able to replace it with spending more time at the farm.
It is a tentative plan, though; I was working on something over Christmas that I realized I could file the numbers off and self-publish, so I’ll probably go back to that once I’ve finished the big Home Out In The Wind push, and made a last stab at the current outstanding WIPs that I want to finish. (It involves a fugitive military science fiction experiment, a waitress trapped in a small town, a box of kittens, and it’s set in my hometown during my high school years just for shits and giggles and because I thought it would be a lark to take away smartphones and remember what it was like to be Alone in the Country back then. The only downside is, it’s not a romance! I don’t know if anyone would buy it but it was a really weird little spiky idea that I quite liked.)
My mother also keeps digging up these wonderful little gems of historical stories that she dearly wants me to write novels about but I don’t know if I can manage to write a novel that doesn’t include sex or magic or at least science fiction in it. I’ve tried, but it doesn’t seem to go well. (My first attempt was a straightforward enough adaptation of the family legend of one particular ancestor’s emigration to the US, but he was a Puritan and it somehow became a lurid romance novel and I had to abandon it in complete horror.)
You write really well. Have you considered writing original fic and self publishing? (I can help with covers and stuff.) Also you hold down a steady job and help family members to do so too. That sounds pretty amazing to me.
I am probably going through my usual PMS-related Why Is There Anything, Also Everything That Exists Personally Disapproves Of Me angst, which is getting depressingly regular+severe as I advance through my thirties, but knowing that doesn’t help, especially when it winds up meaning that No Emotions I Experience Are Valid Unless I Run Them By A Trained Professional First (which is the current official stance in my ahem household, and is extra-shitty because I don’t have any trained professionals on retainer, and you know, the things that bother you at times like this aren’t nothing, it’s just that you’re no longer able to lie to yourself in moments like this. Except sometimes, when it turns out you really can’t rely on your own interpretation of events, but I have yet to discover how on earth one is to get literally anything done if you just operate on the assumption that none of your own reality is real, I would appreciate pointers).
Anyway. I haven’t spiraled into utter dissipation yet, by the grace of what I don’t know, but let’s be real, having a Dude who makes literally five times what I do per hour (even when I don’t count my volunteer labor at $0; no, this was back when I was full-time at the camera store) is the only reason I’m not destitute.
I would dearly love to self-publish, but all the figures I’ve seen about what one could actually make doing so seem so low as to mean that I couldn’t replace even my pathetic half-time income that way, so I’d still have to work at the camera store and would still be stuck with my agonizing 300-mile bilocation problem. It would just mean in effect that I’d have to give up writing fanfic, which is about the only high point I currently have in my sordid existence, and wouldn’t be able to replace it with spending more time at the farm.
It is a tentative plan, though; I was working on something over Christmas that I realized I could file the numbers off and self-publish, so I’ll probably go back to that once I’ve finished the big Home Out In The Wind push, and made a last stab at the current outstanding WIPs that I want to finish. (It involves a fugitive military science fiction experiment, a waitress trapped in a small town, a box of kittens, and it’s set in my hometown during my high school years just for shits and giggles and because I thought it would be a lark to take away smartphones and remember what it was like to be Alone in the Country back then. The only downside is, it’s not a romance! I don’t know if anyone would buy it but it was a really weird little spiky idea that I quite liked.)
My mother also keeps digging up these wonderful little gems of historical stories that she dearly wants me to write novels about but I don’t know if I can manage to write a novel that doesn’t include sex or magic or at least science fiction in it. I’ve tried, but it doesn’t seem to go well. (My first attempt was a straightforward enough adaptation of the family legend of one particular ancestor’s emigration to the US, but he was a Puritan and it somehow became a lurid romance novel and I had to abandon it in complete horror.)
