It’s been a rough week for my writing.
The company I work for has had a series of cross-company events this week, and since we’ve got folks working all over the globe, they were held at a time that was convenient for basically no one. For my part, that meant getting up at 4am so I could be awake, showered, and coherent for what some days was five hours of continuous Zoom meetings.
Not conducive to writing, to say the least. I managed to throw down some words on Tuesday after work, but otherwise my brain has just been much at the end of the day. So I’ve only written 269 words on the novel this week.
The meetings are over, so I’m hoping to be able to play catch-up today and tomorrow. Reach my goal of at least 1,250 words before the sun sets on Sunday. But the shift in my schedule meant other errands have also been put off all week, and now I’ve got to juggle all of it together.
And process the short-story rejection I got on Wednesday.
This one hit me harder than I thought it would. Possibly because they’d had it for a couple months, which — once again — gave me hope that it might make it through the gauntlet this time. The form rejection I received — word-for-word the same letter I’ve gotten from the magazine before, despite a change in editors — was a bit of gut-punch, then. I guess it didn’t make it through any part of the gauntlet, after all; folks were just too busy to have even read my story (and then immediately reject it) until now.
So I’m a bit low, and questioning once again why I bother. isn’t it enough to have one job? Why am I trying to have another? Why don’t I just give it a rest, and go do something else with my time? And I don’t have any good answers this go-round.
What do you do, when you think of quitting? How do you keep putting words on the page? Or push yourself to send that story out to one more market?