On Feeling Better

Well, as i mentioned, i have been feeling better, not so weepy or sad--except on random occassion. The only thing that's really changed since the monstrous daily weeps and now is...drum roll please...i've been working on my writing. Anti-climatic, huh? It's very very strange and novel how my own creative pursuits, especially writing, can make me feel better, can calm me down in a sense and give me peace. It's so basic and yet so shocking to me. I guess that's because i've never seen writing as an easy task. And to find comfort or peace in it seems like an oxymoron, unless you're writing in your blog or journal. But creative writing? Where you have to beat down your own internal critic at every turn so that your creative side might get a word in edge-wise for a second out of the day...well, what's fun or peace-inducing about that?

It's a strange world we live in. These are strange times. Case in point--i just received a rejection for a query i sent out 9 MONTHS AGO. It was a rejection from the publisher who also sent me a book with the rejection. Very strange. And the book is a historical romance by Katherine O'Neal (someone i've never heard of before) called The Art of Seduction. I was upset by the rejection...even cried over it. Well, it's all very sad. Why must EVERYTHING i attempt fail miserably??? I know, i know, it's not everything. I just like making grand sweeping generalizations. But anyways, i was feeling bad up until i actually decided to look at this book. The writing isnt compelling, nor does it resonate with the period. It reads like a contemporary novel. I think it's supposed to be a new line of sexier/erotic romance, but i didnt find it so. Actually, i thought, why am i feeling bad when they publish crap like this?

We live in a time where it doesnt take real talent to succeed. Look at Jessica Simpson ... what's her talent? Two boobs? Great. Even monkeys have those. So glad we applaud what's laudable. Or Paris Hilton...what's her reason for fame? Daddy's pocket book? The fact that she can have sex in front of a camera? Again, even monkeys do that. Is that what talent is in this day and age?

Ok, i dont know why i'm ranting about the talentless. I just hate rejections. I just have to remember that someone really stupid blew their chances with me.

Oh boy, i'm beginning to sound like one of the losers on American Idol. This can't be good.

Why, again, do i like writing? It's mental ivf, if you think about it. For months you pump yourself up with drugs (or a story you think is fantastic) and then in the end it fails to achieve the positive results you were hoping. Writing keeps me connected to this constant, illusive carrot.

I wonder what it will be like when i finally taste it ... because i've already decided that it's mathematically impossible to fail at ivf AND publishing. I think there's a theorem some where...if one fails miserably for all time at ivf, then one will eventually succeed in something else.

Oh blah dee.