Romanticizing Reality

I finsihed my final edit last night...I'm pretty sure, I mean. I'm also pretty sure I'll be going back and making more changes because that's how I am. I can't seem to find satisfaction in the finished project. But for now, it's as good as it's gonna get. So for now, November Rain is done! (Still not even 100% on the title, but it fits.) I'm also unsure about the first few chapters or so. Not too sure how it's going to be taken, if the way my characters meet is silly, or unfitting for the rest of the book. I've been going back and forth so much. I re-read it and I absolutely love the book, but the first bit I still question. I love the idea, but as always, my problem is--will everyone else? Well, okay....so I'm realistic enough to know not everyone will. But hopefully, some people will. The people that have my taste. But as I've been working extremely hard lately on not worrying about what anyone else might think, I know it ...

It's late and I should be getting to bed, but I'm too excited just yet. I had to blog that I just finished my novel! Once I got back in the groove the other day, the rest flowed out and I realized I was closer to the end then I thought. So, even through my exhaust tonight, knowing I only had the epilogue left, I had to finish. Now, one more final read-through and edit to make sure it all fits, and I'll be done! Next, the grueling process of querying. Gulp. Not so fun...

It's late and I'm tired, but because I haven't written anything in a few days, I feel the need to write something...anything. I'm stuck in my novel. I've reached a spot where I have ideas, written some, but I can't go further until I figure out whether I really want to keep things or not. Feeling stuck makes me feel unstable inside. LOL. Things have been flowing so smoothly that it's throwing me off to feel in a rut. I think sometimes my mind is so crammed with ideas and the constant flow is bound to jam sometime. Maybe a few more days without writing will get me back on track. Who knows? Sometimes I just wish I could step outside myself, sit back and read what I've written as me (because I know my taste), but as the me who hasn't written the story and doesn't know it forward and backward, behind and front. It's hard for me to say if it's really good, if people (people who like the same things as me of course) will actually like it--or if...

Feeling alone most of the time in my bubble of writing, I decided in order to release the pressure that seems to build, I'd blog about it--about all the struggles I experience, my insecurities, confusion, thoughts...basically anything that has to do with my measly writing career. I'll save the other stuff about my kids, etc., for my other blog --my other blog I rarely update. :/ The writing community is a big and scary world and I feel completely inadequate to take it on. However, I am bound and determined to follow the dream as long as my family life allows me to do so. That's the trick--not getting swallowed in it. There are so many times I have to audibly reaffirm to myself that "I am a mother and wife first, a writer second." Sometimes I blur the line, and it's that I'm desperately trying to work on. It's hard when you have something brewing inside you, a story you have to release, and you feel like if you don't you might self-combust. As with ...