Hi. So um. So… about an hour ago while trying to figure out why comments on old posts weren’t showing up (it was something I had unknowingly checked in the settings; I fixed it) I accidently updated an old post marked “private” from 2006… and it was not only no longer private, it was republished as if it were new. I deleted the automated tweet, but I couldn’t delete the post that was sent out via my feed. So if you subscribe to this blog via email or on a feed reader, you may have seen a post go through called “Glug-Glug (That’s the Sound of Me Drowning)” and perhaps you were confused. I would be.
- I am not ghostwriting again. (The YA novel I mention in that old post was a work-for-hire project.)
- I am not that massively stressed out that I feel like I’m drowning.
- I am not publishing a new short story, even though I wish I were.
- And, oh, we no longer have that loft bed.
That was an old post from 2006. (Fine, I’ll link it here so you know what I’m talking about. It mentions Big Bird.)
But a weird thing occurred while I was rereading this post from my archives. I remembered how things used to be. For a moment, I’d time-traveled back to 2006, waking up psycho-early for my day job because I had to slip my writing time into a couple hours before my stressful copyediting job began, since afterward I came home to my brain bleeding and could only collapse in front of the TV. This was during the time I’d pushed my own writing aside, what I thought of as my “real” writing, and was doing work-for-hire novels for money, a time I was not very happy, when I thought I’d never make it here, where I am today.
I think things are hard sometimes? Ha! Talk about perspective.
(Also, I wouldn’t be anywhere near here without E. Obviously.)
And, so you know how the aftermath of that post turned out, I did drop everything to do the revisions to the story, and it was published. However it now occurs to me: It turns out that the work-for-hire novel and other ghostwriting projects were more important than the adult litfic short stories I was trying to publish. I mean, who gave me first real shot… the YA/kidlit community or the old guard of adult fiction? So, in a way, I was wrong way back in 2006. I was doing something really important and I had no idea.
Anyway, all is well. I apologize for any confusion.
(This post used to have a link to the old short story in question, but yes, I deleted it.)