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Jan. 12th, 2006 12:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeI'm having another fit of OMGISUCK. I wonder if this'll get any easier once I actually do have a novel or two under my belt.
Goddammit. Fucking son of a flea-ridden mongrel sheep-lusting bitch. I've had three short stories published. I have a decent truckload of fans on any forum I've posted more than a story or two on. I damn well am good enough to get published, especially given some of the books I've been reading. I should not be this fucking scared.
Mostly, it's come down to writing the damn query letters. Query letters make me cry. Literally.
I'm just making excuses now. Stoppit, Jag. Stoppit stoppit stoppit. And eat lunch. And then get to work on the last bits of the mystery submission and then query letters.
NNNGHHHH.
On the plus side (ooh, oranges) I'm doing all right in the whole eat healthier take vitamins and exercise thing. I'm exercising. I'm sore, but I'm exercising. I'm stretching. Nowhere near as flexible as I used to be, but hopefully by June that'll change. I've cut out most of the extraneous ice cream cake candybar crap. Sandwiches. Salads. Fruit, veggies, mango sorbet. Beef, chicken, smaller portions, less pasta. More exercise. More water. I am writing, though less than I probably should be. I'm working on getting a new muse for TM caught up on topic responses before I introduce him. I'm somewhat more organized than I was last year. And I'm getting better at staying at work because, really? I do need the money.
Reminding myself that I'm a coward isn't going to help. Where's that infamous perseverence, Kitty? Arg. Smack self pick self up. And sammich. Mmm sammich.
Car needs repair. Again. Not just the alignment but new back springs. Stupid car. We're taking it in next week. I've got coupons that need to be applied to DVDs I want. Mm coupons. I've cut down on my extraneous spending, too, which is good. Keeping actually within my spending limit for my slush fund, this year. Woot. Go me.
Yeah, other than that? Mostly, I got nothing. I've got a pile of old DVD seasons to watch and an even bigger pile of shit to edit and submit (short stories) and query letters to write (novels). Mostly I'm sitting here eating lunch, which I should be doing, but I can't eat right now. Meditation, maybe. Then work. Writing, editing. Getting ready for game tomorrow. Heh. The M3's interested in my Shadowrun game. Go figure. He's clinging, of course, Sorcerous bastard that he is. The first full-blown one I've ever met, and most of that I'm betting is his age. He's about seven years shy of being in his peak. Prime. Which, for a Sorcerer? Is not a good thing. If I thought I was going to be here that long I'd lay odds he'd be dead before he's fifty. ... and that's horribly morbid.
RIGHT. No more morbid. Finish the damn sammich. Eat an orange. Get back to work. Then watch some tv. Then work some more. Then work tomorrow, then game. Moo. Rgh. Stubborn. Fight. Win! Hee.
Fuck.
Goddammit. Fucking son of a flea-ridden mongrel sheep-lusting bitch. I've had three short stories published. I have a decent truckload of fans on any forum I've posted more than a story or two on. I damn well am good enough to get published, especially given some of the books I've been reading. I should not be this fucking scared.
Mostly, it's come down to writing the damn query letters. Query letters make me cry. Literally.
I'm just making excuses now. Stoppit, Jag. Stoppit stoppit stoppit. And eat lunch. And then get to work on the last bits of the mystery submission and then query letters.
NNNGHHHH.
On the plus side (ooh, oranges) I'm doing all right in the whole eat healthier take vitamins and exercise thing. I'm exercising. I'm sore, but I'm exercising. I'm stretching. Nowhere near as flexible as I used to be, but hopefully by June that'll change. I've cut out most of the extraneous ice cream cake candybar crap. Sandwiches. Salads. Fruit, veggies, mango sorbet. Beef, chicken, smaller portions, less pasta. More exercise. More water. I am writing, though less than I probably should be. I'm working on getting a new muse for TM caught up on topic responses before I introduce him. I'm somewhat more organized than I was last year. And I'm getting better at staying at work because, really? I do need the money.
Reminding myself that I'm a coward isn't going to help. Where's that infamous perseverence, Kitty? Arg. Smack self pick self up. And sammich. Mmm sammich.
Car needs repair. Again. Not just the alignment but new back springs. Stupid car. We're taking it in next week. I've got coupons that need to be applied to DVDs I want. Mm coupons. I've cut down on my extraneous spending, too, which is good. Keeping actually within my spending limit for my slush fund, this year. Woot. Go me.
Yeah, other than that? Mostly, I got nothing. I've got a pile of old DVD seasons to watch and an even bigger pile of shit to edit and submit (short stories) and query letters to write (novels). Mostly I'm sitting here eating lunch, which I should be doing, but I can't eat right now. Meditation, maybe. Then work. Writing, editing. Getting ready for game tomorrow. Heh. The M3's interested in my Shadowrun game. Go figure. He's clinging, of course, Sorcerous bastard that he is. The first full-blown one I've ever met, and most of that I'm betting is his age. He's about seven years shy of being in his peak. Prime. Which, for a Sorcerer? Is not a good thing. If I thought I was going to be here that long I'd lay odds he'd be dead before he's fifty. ... and that's horribly morbid.
RIGHT. No more morbid. Finish the damn sammich. Eat an orange. Get back to work. Then watch some tv. Then work some more. Then work tomorrow, then game. Moo. Rgh. Stubborn. Fight. Win! Hee.
Fuck.