I posted on Tumblr this a.m. in a reblog. Because I'd been thinking about this for a while, getting more and more despondent as I see my brief career swiftly retreating in the rear view mirror.
I'm nearly 56, queer, Latina and disabled - heck of a combo. I don't know what I'm going to to moving forward, other than go to work at my day job, see what kind of energy I can muster up. There are universes in my head, crying out for me to tell their stories, but so many days, I think, is it worth it?
I'm tired. I see the misogyny every single day and it hurts. I don't want to be collateral damage.
I didn't get pro-published (outside of corporate work-for-hire) until I was 46 years old. For a brief flurry, I thought I'd be an exception, that my work would take off and perhaps, just maybe, I could consider writing fulltime. Only, not so much.
I know my work is good. It's been short-listed for several awards (in women-heavy spaces). I've gotten rave reviews...again, in women-heavy spaces. I danced the self-promotion dance like a loon. Yet, here I am, some 3 years after my last book was published, and I'm pretty much been sidelined. And I am no Connie Willis or some of the other more amazing authors that you mentioned.
It's extremely disheartening and when I think of having to deal with the utter slog of trying to get something published, after pouring heart & soul out into the work, on top of having several autoimmune diseases which sap my energy...I often just sit back and say, "Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I'll be able to gather my mental forces and dive back into writing those things that need to be written."
But tomorrow seems further and further away.
I don't know if I've got it in me to climb that barrier anymore.
The most I can do is continue to buy books from women like me and boost the signal as much as I can.
no subject
I'm nearly 56, queer, Latina and disabled - heck of a combo. I don't know what I'm going to to moving forward, other than go to work at my day job, see what kind of energy I can muster up. There are universes in my head, crying out for me to tell their stories, but so many days, I think, is it worth it?
I'm tired. I see the misogyny every single day and it hurts. I don't want to be collateral damage.
I didn't get pro-published (outside of corporate work-for-hire) until I was 46 years old. For a brief flurry, I thought I'd be an exception, that my work would take off and perhaps, just maybe, I could consider writing fulltime. Only, not so much.
I know my work is good. It's been short-listed for several awards (in women-heavy spaces). I've gotten rave reviews...again, in women-heavy spaces. I danced the self-promotion dance like a loon. Yet, here I am, some 3 years after my last book was published, and I'm pretty much been sidelined. And I am no Connie Willis or some of the other more amazing authors that you mentioned.
It's extremely disheartening and when I think of having to deal with the utter slog of trying to get something published, after pouring heart & soul out into the work, on top of having several autoimmune diseases which sap my energy...I often just sit back and say, "Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I'll be able to gather my mental forces and dive back into writing those things that need to be written."
But tomorrow seems further and further away.
I don't know if I've got it in me to climb that barrier anymore.
The most I can do is continue to buy books from women like me and boost the signal as much as I can.
Yeah, I'm pretty much a Debbie Downer these days.