Hard work, pay offs and a roast squash soup to warm your soul
How can this be mid-November already?? This year is just flying by, isn't it? I mean, in about six weeks, 2018 will be over, and a new year beginning! How has this happened? It has been a whirlwind kind of year, alright, and I have worked my arse off to the point of exhaustion. Because, in real honesty, I did work quite a lot, this past year. I wrote six books this past year. Actually, when 2018 is over, I will have written, revised, edited, re-written and published twelve books in three years. Twelve. Books. This is no mean feat. It is a lot of work. So why do I always feel like I'm not doing enough? Why do I still feel that this is not adequate? On the one hand, having written this much in only three years, there's bound to be many who consider I'm rushing my work, not spending enough time working on it, not letting it stew long enough, not allowing for proper, correct edits and re-writes, simply rushing things so that I publish and publish and publish. That's why I decided not publish anymore, for the time being. And also because the books I've got out there need more marketing, I have to invest more in them, get them noticed out there. That means selling them, promote, advertise, show them off, bring attention to them. Not really adding more books to pack up my already overcrowded marketing strategies. Which is something I loathe. Writing does not exhaust me, on the contrary, it energises and revives me. What does tire me out is everything else about writing. Especially the part where you have to put yourself out there and try and reach people, get them to want to read your work, get them to want to support your efforts. That is the hard part.
On the other hand, I feel I'm not doing enough. I mean, three years and eight books that hardly sell are all I have to show for it? Who the hell am I kidding, the stuff I write is just NOT what readers are looking for or want to read. So why go on, why don't I change, why am I not "evolving" and writing in a manner that reaches audiences? Why am I not following the rules, and working harder, and accomplishing more? Why haven't I accomplished more? Because I am not doing enough. Because I stubbornly refuse to do what I should by now know is what I must do. Follow the rules. Change my writing style. Stop being myself. But I can't do that. And it becomes a vicious circle. If I don't do it, then I'm not doing enough, then I don't accomplish enough, then I don't have anything to show for. But that's actually bullshit! Because twelve books, no matter what different stages of readiness they might be in, is actually a lot for three years. I should cut myself some slack, pat myself on the back, say to myself 'Well done, old girl!' because it's true! I see a lot of other writers cheered and applauded for how hard they've worked on a single novel during a whole year, and I'm actually one of the first to stand up and applaud and think to myself 'Holy shit, that IS amazing, this person has written, revised, edited, re-written and published an entire novel in only a year!' So why the hell can't I do that to myself? In fact, why the hell can't other people do that to me too? Everyone and their mothers will condemn me for feeling this way, that yes, it is important to me to receive this kind of validation, the recognition from my peers that I have worked hard, that I have done well. But guess what? While these people are judging and condemning me for feeling this way, they feel the same. It's as natural as taking a breath. It's human nature.
Why is it people are so rash to judge anyone who dares show their vulnerability, and admit to their failings, their fears, their needs? Why are we so quick to point our fingers to anyone who isn't ashamed nor afraid of showing up NOT being all confident and enthusiastic about the work they produce? Why are we so in hurry to assume that because someone lacks confidence, they must be crap? Why do we so easily believe being a realist is akin to being negative? I'm a realist, no matter what, where it comes to ME, to my work, to how I am perceived - both personally and professionally. I am realist in that I know most readers - and especially most other writers - will not like my writing style, my stories, the way I build my characters, the way I weave my plots. This isn't being negative, it is simply stating a fact. It doesn't mean I think my work is crap - no matter how many people tell me it is - because I actually don't. I do think my writing is very good, and my books are really amazing and worth a read. But I am conscious enough to realise that my personal opinion of my work is the minority. Does this hurt? Of course it does, and if someone tells you it shouldn't and you're wrong in having these kind of feelings, they're wrong. But does this hurt me enough so that I will change the core of who I am, in order to please the majority. Sorry, no. And yes, I'll keep complaining about it, so you can all go right ahead and tell me I whine about shit and do nothing to change it. I will always vent my 'hurts'. And I will always write profusely. And start ackowledging how hard I actually work, and how much effort I put into it.
Like this soup. It may look simple, easy, effortless. But it has many, many layers. There's roast butternut squash, there's stock made from scratch, there's many vegetables and depth of flavour. It's not really hard work, but it's good work. And it is so good and tasty. Here's how you can do it too:
- 1 small butternut squash
- 1 medium size onion
- 5 large-ish potatoes
- 1 medium sized turnip
- 1 medium sized courgette
- 2 carrots
- 1 litre of homemade stock - either chicken or vegetable
- salt, pepper, nutmeg and cumin to taste
- olive oil
