There have been so many things happening recently. Things that were set into motion when I was on vacation in Shanghai, and they are good things. Great things even.
Just a little recap, after a year of working on my little personal project, I went off to Shanghai where I completely slacked off on my blogging duties. I could make excuses and say that it was cause of the Great Firewall of China but I totally had a workaround for that. I was just too lazy to write about it. (I'll talk about it sometime soon I guess, but no promises)
Anyway, back to the main point. I've been given opportunities. Like legit, doors have been opened for me to go study in Australia. I ended up applying to QUT and Deakin, one in Queensland and the other in Melbourne, and so far, QUT has already sent me an offer letter.
My rep told me that before he can source out the sponsors and scholarships, I have to have an offer letter, and now I do. But the thing is, I don't know if I want QUT or Deakin now. Huge dilemma, since I want to make sure I go to the right place. But I'm no psychic, so all I can do is put all this in God's hands and say, "I'll go to whichever school is being paid for, cause that's what I can afford".
Tough choices all around, but all is well. I believe that much. Right now I'll just be waiting to see when the scholarships roll on in and whisk me away to the land Down Under.
Things are happening, and they're happening fast. And I can't wait to see what's in store for me next.
Showing posts with label Journal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Journal. Show all posts
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
It's Scary Being a Writer
Okay. Maybe 'being a writer' isn't exactly a particularly scary thing. There's no real risk to life and limb, so it's one of the least life-threatening jobs out there.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that being a new writer is a scary thing. Particularly at that point when the future of your lovingly-crafted manuscript isn't clear. You've got so much hope for it, but you can't see what's lying ahead.
Yes, my novel's in the final stages of being edited/rewritten, which feels like a great personal achievement to myself. Even if nobody else thinks the same thing. And I've got to say, the past few months when all my attention was focused on writing, I was feeling pretty comfortable with my little setup. But when the manuscript started nearing completion, things started getting scary. Rationally, I know that there isn't anything to really be afraid of. But there's just so many things to worry about when a small part of you is actively looking at things that might go wrong. That worries me.
I like to think of myself as an optimist. I try my best to be hopeful about the things I get myself into. But when I think about looking for an agent and finally trying to get published, it scares me. The horrible voice in my head asks all sorts of awful questions that really get me freaking out.
Is the novel too short? Is the writing the best I can make it be? Will the agents and publishers like this?
I would have no problems answering these questions if it were anyone else worrying over them. I know that a novel's length is technically a subjective thing. There's no fixed rule. I know that I will never be satisfied with the writing, and I'll always find a way to make it better. Even if the change is tiny, I'd find fault with it somehow. And I also know that different agents and publishers will like different things. Because at the end of the day, they're people and that's how people are!
But as a writer who's editing the story he's painstakingly put together for months (technically years), it's still worrying. I'm slowly getting a grip though. Even now, writing this is helping me get this load off my chest, and I can hear that hopeful voice in my head again. It knows that there's an agent out there who will love to represent me. It knows there's a publisher out there who would love to print my book. And it knows there would be readers out there who would love my book.
So for now, I'll just have to finish up this manuscript. I'm happy with the story I'm trying to tell. I'm happy with the work that I've managed to do, and continue to do. I've just got to keep at it, and pray for something good to happen.
P.S. - I swear I'm not mentally ill. The voices in my head aren't telling me to rob a bank or kill a man or anything.
P.P.S. - If you're feeling the same thing that I am (gut-wrenching fear over the future of your work) I'd love to hear you out in the comments below.
Cheers, everyone. Thanks for reading.
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