Author: ElvenAssassin

A Faltering Weakness

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Anxiety is a very crippling, and hard thing to work through.

I let it trip me up yesterday. And… to be honest, sitting here to discuss it instead of loading my dishwasher and clearing my counters is testament to the fact that it’s still troubling me, although to a lesser degree.

Because… housework. And cooking! It doesn’t do itself, you know.

Perhaps a brisk walk in the lingering, cool, spring air to collect fresh vegetables from the grocery store once the stock has begun simmering… anything to feed this wanderlust.

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Self Doubt

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Fairytales are more than true:
not because they tell us that dragons exist
but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.
~ G.K. Chesterton

 ~~~~~

I am quaking in my boots at the thought of writing a book synopsis.  Not that I didn’t start before this – I did – but to write a tale of two star crossed lovers… well, even *I* hate a bad ending. Do they deserve a bad ending? Perhaps not, but that’s what some people get.

Raw.
Messy.
Emotional life.

And to what purpose?  ::shrugs:: Sometimes I wonder.

Who wants to read a book like that? There’s enough of that crap in the world! Fantasy is to escape,  not be faced with the world’s problems.

However, I realize that’s a coward’s excuse for not attempting it at all. And not to say they HAVE to have that ending… but I can’t imagine another.

I just feel stupid putting all my short stories together in chronological order. Does my overall story even make sense?

I guess I’m afraid of rejection and to be told it doesn’t. But that kind of stupid attitude gets one no where…

So I will quit procrastinating and flesh it out. It was always the ending that I was afraid of,  anyway.

::takes a deep breath::
…time to get back to it, then…

Let Sleeping Dragons Lie…

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~~~~~

 Does that bother you? It’s bothers me too… that little flick of puff at the end just doesn’t look like how I imagine it in my head.

Regardless…

Perhaps this is my next drawing to be finished. ::smiles:: I am not quite sure about those fore paws, eh?

That, and I have a few decisions to make. There is a (slim) opportunity to talk to a publisher and pitch a book idea. I only need, oh, a title,  and a synopsis.  I have prose… ideas…  All the main players! …but which part of the story would I consider the first book? I don’t know…

So there that. If I’m to do this, I have to make a submission in the next two weeks. (No pressure!)

And the challenge to make 20 pieces of art. Twenty GOOD pieces of work… and I might be featured in a local gallery.

Exciting but hard decisions. There is no place there, methinks, for fantasy art. I can buy jump rings and create chainmail jewelry to channel my medieval/fantasy bug (yup, one hobby I adore but never quite started), or I… paint other things. Real world things. Expressionistic things. I did see a mermaid statue, but it wasn’t IN YOUR FACE or anything; she was hiding behind fishies.

So. I can do that. I can do those things too.

It means… sunlight and gardens and oil slicked canvases. Lemon infused hair and home made bug spray (and lots of it). Twenty pieces, I was warned. I have to have a body of at least 20 pieces to sell so that they have a good idea of my skills, and these people feature professional artists. Correction; people who work all day in their studios, and come back again the next day. I don’t have a studio right now, but… I do have outside, and outside is free. That should be enough to get started, if I’m accepted.

Hum, and away the gears do grind…

Chin Up, Carry On.

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[all successes lead from failures]

No apologies. No excuses. No suggestion of coming up short.

Believe in the product.

Here is my work; I believe we’re a good fit.
I invite you to feel the same.

~~~~~

::shrugs:: I’m paraphrasing, so don’t shoot me for my arrogance, please? Alas, one can’t sell a short stack of cards. (I may know I have talent, but 8 drawings makes for a really slim body of work.)

It was a very professional let down.

I can’t properly put into words the relief and bitter disappointment to receive such a well practiced, polite, rejection letter. Mind you, it’s the first of its kind, but it was so well put (No thank-you, but I wish you luck!) …I can’t imagine I’ll be quite so fortunate at the next stumbling block.

But, we are all here to learn, and dust off the pieces. Truly, success is earned, not given. While I am nursing that lesson, I’ll be holed up with some rice pudding, me thinks. (Chocolate mint ice cream would be preferable, but I’ll work with what I have.)

Then it’s time to put the disappointment to good use and create something else.
(Tomorrow.)