Simone Pond's Blog - Posts Tagged "personal-thoughts-on-writing"
An open book
Is it possible to have postpartum depression if you've never given birth?
Since I launched my last book, I've been feeling a lot like what the Mayo clinic says happens to some women after giving birth: "a jumble of powerful emotions, from excitement and joy to fear and anxiety. But it can also result in something you might not expect — depression."
Hand raised! Yes. Yes, that's me. Only I didn't have a baby. I had a book. I should be celebrating, right? I guess some people do. I tried, but a wall of depression got in the way. (Mothers: I'm not saying writing and publishing a book is anything close to making and birthing a baby, I'm just saying I relate to the symptoms of postpartum depression, except for the joyful part and breastfeeding.)
These last few weeks have been like trying to walk up a rocky crag without any shoes, alone in the rain, with a four-hundred pound backpack. Maybe that's a bit dramatic. Okay, the backpack is fifty pounds. At the bottom of this sadness is the fact that reality isn't matching my expectations. Also, the radio silence from friends has been slightly discouraging (seriously, if you ever want people to avoid you like the plague -- publish some books). But underneath the superficial junk is the glaring fear that I'm not good enough. Good enough for what? Still trying to figure that one out.
Many authors/artists/musicians go through similar feelings after releasing work into the world. Months of being alone in your head, hunched over the laptop and listening to people who aren't really there can seem like a form of madness, and when you finally come up for air to share your precious work with the world, it's freaking scary and weird. And it's worse when the reception doesn't look like Carrie Bradshaw's. Maybe I need me a Samantha?
The last couple of days have been better. I'm not hitting the refresh button on my sales page six hundred times, and I've stopped checking for new reviews. It's time to take the needle off the record and chill out. Anything worth something takes time. If I could buy a virtue it'd be patience.
Writing about this stuff might seem weak, but I've found (like my tagline says) that when I expose my demons they lose their power over me and I can live again.
Keep writing. It saves lives.
Since I launched my last book, I've been feeling a lot like what the Mayo clinic says happens to some women after giving birth: "a jumble of powerful emotions, from excitement and joy to fear and anxiety. But it can also result in something you might not expect — depression."
Hand raised! Yes. Yes, that's me. Only I didn't have a baby. I had a book. I should be celebrating, right? I guess some people do. I tried, but a wall of depression got in the way. (Mothers: I'm not saying writing and publishing a book is anything close to making and birthing a baby, I'm just saying I relate to the symptoms of postpartum depression, except for the joyful part and breastfeeding.)
These last few weeks have been like trying to walk up a rocky crag without any shoes, alone in the rain, with a four-hundred pound backpack. Maybe that's a bit dramatic. Okay, the backpack is fifty pounds. At the bottom of this sadness is the fact that reality isn't matching my expectations. Also, the radio silence from friends has been slightly discouraging (seriously, if you ever want people to avoid you like the plague -- publish some books). But underneath the superficial junk is the glaring fear that I'm not good enough. Good enough for what? Still trying to figure that one out.
Many authors/artists/musicians go through similar feelings after releasing work into the world. Months of being alone in your head, hunched over the laptop and listening to people who aren't really there can seem like a form of madness, and when you finally come up for air to share your precious work with the world, it's freaking scary and weird. And it's worse when the reception doesn't look like Carrie Bradshaw's. Maybe I need me a Samantha?
The last couple of days have been better. I'm not hitting the refresh button on my sales page six hundred times, and I've stopped checking for new reviews. It's time to take the needle off the record and chill out. Anything worth something takes time. If I could buy a virtue it'd be patience.
Writing about this stuff might seem weak, but I've found (like my tagline says) that when I expose my demons they lose their power over me and I can live again.
Keep writing. It saves lives.
Words are eternal
I haven't posted in a while because I've been too dark. I decided to drive up to Ojai — my favorite place on earth — to get right with myself, and God. There's something magical up here in these mountains.
I just read a post from one of my favorite authors, Hugh Howey, regarding the self-publishing industry. I was so inspired by his words that I had to write a new post. He's the reason I decided to stop torturing myself with trying to publish the traditional route.
A few years ago, I had been shopping around my memoir (the one that died a horrible death). I had just received my fiftieth "thanks, but no thanks" and I felt like giving up. Instead, I put the memoir down and picked up my fiction manuscript I had started a while back. A little scrappy thing called The City Center. While I was at a writer's conference I had spoken to an agent and she liked the first ten pages, but asked me why there were people living inside the city center and I didn't know. Yikes. So I started brainstorming ideas and rewriting my manuscript, but I just couldn't come up with a solid reason about why they were inside the damn center.
Until one day in church, I heard the answer. It came to me like a bolt of lightning. I scribbled it down on a piece of paper and from that point I was able to finish my manuscript. Once it was in a good place, I started drafting my query letter. Yes, I was going to start querying agents again. Surely I'd have better luck. This book wasn't about my depressing alcoholic life. It was a dystopian sci-fi in the same vein as The Hunger Games. It'd be a hit! But when I started writing the query letter I got sick to my stomach. I just couldn't — no matter how hard I tried — come up with a reason to put myself through that torture again.
That's when I started reading Hugh Howey's story about his self-publishing journey and I thought maybe I could take that route. I had already self-published a couple of humor books and a book of essays, and though they were more personal and not marketed, I knew I had it in me to give it a shot. Only I wanted to take a more professional approach. I realized if I wanted to have any inkling of success, it'd be like running my own business. I voraciously studied the self-publishing industry and marketing. When I finally felt like I kinda sorta maybe knew what I was doing, I published The City Center.
Two years later, I have three published works and all three have hit Amazon's bestseller list in their category many times. I still haven't hit my childhood dream of making the NY Times bestseller list and I'm not making a living from my royalties (yet), but the fact that I have published works floating around in the world — and that readers enjoy them — is the greatest joy of my life (I just wrote this to Hugh Howey). I’ve been writing since I was a little girl. I started blogging in 2006 and wrote to a tiny audience. And I still do. But that doesn’t matter. Sometimes I get caught up in the world and read too many articles about building my platform, or how to reach a wider audience, or how to be the best friggin’ marketing genius ever in the entire world. And after I spin around in the cycle for a day or two, I dry off and get back to what really matters: writing. God gave me a desire to write. I’m going to fulfill that every single day of my life. Regardless if anyone is reading, buying or talking about my work. Success comes and goes, but words are eternal.
Keep writing. It saves lives.
I just read a post from one of my favorite authors, Hugh Howey, regarding the self-publishing industry. I was so inspired by his words that I had to write a new post. He's the reason I decided to stop torturing myself with trying to publish the traditional route.
A few years ago, I had been shopping around my memoir (the one that died a horrible death). I had just received my fiftieth "thanks, but no thanks" and I felt like giving up. Instead, I put the memoir down and picked up my fiction manuscript I had started a while back. A little scrappy thing called The City Center. While I was at a writer's conference I had spoken to an agent and she liked the first ten pages, but asked me why there were people living inside the city center and I didn't know. Yikes. So I started brainstorming ideas and rewriting my manuscript, but I just couldn't come up with a solid reason about why they were inside the damn center.
Until one day in church, I heard the answer. It came to me like a bolt of lightning. I scribbled it down on a piece of paper and from that point I was able to finish my manuscript. Once it was in a good place, I started drafting my query letter. Yes, I was going to start querying agents again. Surely I'd have better luck. This book wasn't about my depressing alcoholic life. It was a dystopian sci-fi in the same vein as The Hunger Games. It'd be a hit! But when I started writing the query letter I got sick to my stomach. I just couldn't — no matter how hard I tried — come up with a reason to put myself through that torture again.
That's when I started reading Hugh Howey's story about his self-publishing journey and I thought maybe I could take that route. I had already self-published a couple of humor books and a book of essays, and though they were more personal and not marketed, I knew I had it in me to give it a shot. Only I wanted to take a more professional approach. I realized if I wanted to have any inkling of success, it'd be like running my own business. I voraciously studied the self-publishing industry and marketing. When I finally felt like I kinda sorta maybe knew what I was doing, I published The City Center.
Two years later, I have three published works and all three have hit Amazon's bestseller list in their category many times. I still haven't hit my childhood dream of making the NY Times bestseller list and I'm not making a living from my royalties (yet), but the fact that I have published works floating around in the world — and that readers enjoy them — is the greatest joy of my life (I just wrote this to Hugh Howey). I’ve been writing since I was a little girl. I started blogging in 2006 and wrote to a tiny audience. And I still do. But that doesn’t matter. Sometimes I get caught up in the world and read too many articles about building my platform, or how to reach a wider audience, or how to be the best friggin’ marketing genius ever in the entire world. And after I spin around in the cycle for a day or two, I dry off and get back to what really matters: writing. God gave me a desire to write. I’m going to fulfill that every single day of my life. Regardless if anyone is reading, buying or talking about my work. Success comes and goes, but words are eternal.
Keep writing. It saves lives.
