What am I worth?

I have changed my tactics to writing, blogging, and book selling, in large part because I am not where I want to be. Obviously, if you're not where you want to be, you need to do something differently. As part of that, I've been reading a lot. I've joined a thousand and one groups, forums, mailing lists - you name it. I've reached out to who knows how many different blogs, writers, publicity gurus etc.

About 75% of the time these people write back, in some way. Usually it is a helpful way.

In one particular instance, it was a situation where the person was making the age old case that you have to spend money to make money.

Now between the two of us, my husband and I have a little under $40k of student debt. My husband works in an industry that does not support its employees, in fact, they kind of shit all over them and then stomp on them, no matter how well trained they are. Of course, he makes too much money for us to qualify for government assistance. Our parents happen to live in one of the most expensive housing markets in the country, which means we have to live with them in order to have a place to stay and food to eat. My son has health care because of the ACA. Because of where we live, we have to commute to jobs, and because of a lack of childcare, it doesn't really make sense for me to work at this point.

This is the stress I carry on my shoulders every day.

I have tried a thousand and one tactics already to get my books into readers hands, and here is this person saying the only way I can be successful is by spending money. Money. Something I don't have right now - haven't had for a few years.

I wrote the guy and he actually wrote back, and said nothing I didn't already know. I was grateful he actually responded, but the response did something to me that was unexpected. He wasn't mean, in fact, he was very professional. But it was the fact that he told me things I already knew - things I felt like I couldn't do anything about.

I broke. I just broke. Here was this guy who was supposed to be a guru and he was telling me things I already knew. I felt so defeated.

Here I was, putting every last bit of soul and effort into this - and I still wasn't financially successful. I wasn't getting reviews. I wasn't getting people to buy my books. Granted, people love the books when they read them. Any time I talk to people about them they end up buying a copy. And loving it. Seriously. But I wasn't connecting to enough readers. People weren't coming across my books and buying them. I had a steady trickle of purchases, but nothing to write home about.

I felt like a failure. I was ready to jump off a bridge. The thought actually entered my mind. I cried the rest of the day.

Slowly reason seeped into my consciousness.

The voice (in this case my father's) said: You might not be able to buy another domain, but you could change the landing page to allow for multiple brands.
Me: Okay, I can do that. Next week on update day I can do that.
The voice: Stop 'asking' for reviews. Call in all your chips. Tell anyone and everyone who you know has read your books - I need reviews.
Me: Okay. I can do that. I'll do that.

I started doing that. I felt a little better.

The voice came back (in this case my husband's): You already knew the things this guy told you. Keep working at this. Keep tweaking things. Write a blog post about this. You have more.

I did. I felt even better.

The voice came back a third time (in this case the one in my head): There are more things I haven't done. Try them. See this through. I have a purpose. I am enough.

So here I am. I have a purpose to my writing. I want to educate empathy - specifically compassion. I want everyone to know what is possible in books, with characters, with life. I want to be a catalyst for social change. I want to leave a legacy for my son. This is my purpose.

When there is a purpose, things happen. I believe that. I have everything I need to realize my purpose. I believe I will encounter those driven to work with me. There are no accidents. No coincidences. There is will, and therefore way.

I am sharing all this because I know I'm not alone. My situation is one that has played out many times before over the centuries. I know every modern author isn't in quite as dire of straits as I am. A lot of writers have day jobs, or spouses who essentially sponsor them. I know a lot of people do not need their writing to work for them. And it is nice to have that. There is comfort in that.

I am not comfortable which is why I need you to understand exactly what is at stake for me - for people like me. I need you to know me. To understand my drive. To understand why I struggle every day to do and be more.

When you read my books, understand that through everything, I am baring myself. I am giving you a piece of me to carry with you. When you read my books, you are participating in my life through the lives of my characters. That is the gift I am giving you.

Now tell me, what is it worth?

Ideas and Inaction: The 2 Water Dish Problem

Is that the right path over there?

For creatives, or starving artists, there's a problem in the realm of ideas. There are too many. Certainly that is my problem.

I wake up and have twelve different ideas by breakfast. Some of them I dream while in deep sleep. Others I discover in the course of getting my toddler dressed. Others I have while reading through my social media feeds. And then, when I have these ideas, I have to decide whether I should keep thinking about them - let them develop into something.

The process of vetting such ideas takes maybe a few seconds, but it always goes more or less like this:

"Oh shit! That would be an awesome story!"
"It would. It really would. People would read that."
"Damn! I could write that kind of fan fiction!"
"No I couldn't."
"Yes I could."
"No I couldn't. How could I get into that character's head?" Pauses while thinks through how that would work.
"Wait, yes I COULD! WAHOO!!!"

Keep in mind this happens daily. It happens daily all the while I'm working on several other projects. And this is not the whole day - this is just before breakfast.

You see the problem.

I don't have enough time to follow through on every idea. I can't. It is impractical. I have to prioritize. I have to decide which ideas are worth pursuing. Which ones would I enjoy? Which ones would benefit society? Which ones would be profitable?

This is the same problem creatives, like myself, encounter with jobs. As a creative, I am capable of doing a lot. I have the skills and abilities to make magic happen because I have this wild potential-seeking mind. I solve problems constantly. Ideas bloom, literally, in my sleep. I cannot keep up with them. So of course I do well in problem solving environments. I can do anything in theory, but that doesn't necessarily mean I flourish.

I could, for example, work in a 9-5 job. But, frankly, I might kill myself. I don't say that as a rhetorical device. Working 9-5 doing something that is busy work, surrounded by hundreds of cubicles makes me want to jump off a bridge. Really. There isn't enough variety. People are telling me what to do and how to do it, when those are the kinds of things I excel at on my own. It is soul sucking and does not make use of the extent of my gifts. So of course I would bang my head against the wall and need to take some kind of mood altering prescriptions just to survive.

That is not living.

But what about traditional jobs that do honor my tendencies? What about jobs that do allow me to make use of my crazy idea creation and vetting process? Where are they? What are they? How do I find these things?

The easy thing is to decide what I want to do and then find that.

*blinks while looking blankly*

Right. Remember how I just explained the different ideas I have? Remember how many I have every day before breakfast alone?! What do I want to do? How do I figure that out?

Well, there are the books by career counselors that can be helpful. But what if the required skills you need to do the thing you want to do are out of reach. What if, for example, I decide I want to be a professor for a day job and then, I am rejected by the doctoral programs that would essentially guarantee me such a position (or at least make it possible)?

That is a pickle.

So I end up staring down at my list of ideas, like my wild and crazy skills, wondering how I can cobble them together into a job.

I mean, I know. I know what job I want. What kind of success I want. I know that. I've got it in my head and I visualize it every day (read: comic convention panels, women's conference panels, writing workshops...the list goes on). But, the path to getting there is foggy. The ideas run fast and hard and I can see about twenty different routes to achieving the same thing. Which to choose?

It is like the dog with two water dishes. He sits there, staring at both, getting progressively more thirsty, never drinking. How does he choose? Which one is better? The answer is neither. They both have good water. Both will work. It is whichever one he likes. But the dishes are the same, he thinks. But they aren't. One is on the left, the other on the right. One is nearer the window, the other nearer his owner's chair. It does not matter which he chooses, except that one quenches his thirst and makes him feel good.

But I might regret not choosing the other dish!

Yeah...well...cost of business. All paths will reach the destination. Both dishes solve the problem of thirst. But sitting there ruminating about it won't do anything.

I am actually drinking water. I have actually four books that will definitely be published this year. Two are finished, but in revision phases. Two just need a few more chapters complete and will be done. That's kind of amazing. That means I will have finished four books while watching a toddler...since January. That's kind of remarkable.

I am definitely drinking the water here. I submitted pieces to magazines and got positive rejections (I just added a third to my group...) which means I'm getting closer on that front as well. Closer, but not there...yet.

But in the mean time, waiting for thirst to abate, I'm wondering if this is okay. If my time wouldn't be better spent doing other things. Should I use my skills somewhere else? Should I do something else? Should I have a day job outside of raising my kid? Could I manage that? I applied to a few traditional jobs, and I have to admit that I'm cautious. I mean, if I do not pursue my dream, my vision, part of me will die inside. It is that tension - the tension of giving up, of accepting defeat, versus continuing to battle, continuing the pursuit. The first is pushed by society at large (like, get real). The second is glorified (as in, "Wow! I could never do that! You're amazing!").

I think, no matter what, it is better to be on a path to achieving the goal than not. Not achieving the goal - the dream - is not okay. So I store my vetted ideas for later refusing to get distracted, continue pushing on the ones I've prioritized, and act as though I know what I'm doing. Which I don't. I'm just guessing here and hoping for the best. I mean, I think that's a pretty good idea.

Come Out, Come Out, Whoever You Are!

Some paths are scary...

Lately there have been several recurring themes in my life and therefore, my writing: coincidence, fate, purpose, choice, self-acceptance, and "coming out."

But worth it.

First of all, I don't believe in coincidence. I'm a person of faith and I've had too many strange things happen in my life to believe in "coincidence." I believe that everything happens for a reason, so you could say I believe in a kind of fate and that things - and people - have related purposes.

That said, I also believe you can choose to ignore or follow your purpose. In order to actively make that choice, many times a person must engage in self-exploration. This often leads to the discovery of both pleasant and unpleasant elements of the self (history, talents, preferences, personality traits, etc). This also leads to the possibility of self-acceptance (or not).

The process of discovery and acceptance in turn leads to the possibility of "coming out."

When encountering the phrase "coming out" most people think of an LGBT person openly declaring their gender/orientation, however "coming out" is not exclusively an LGBT act. Any part of the self that has been hidden, dormant, or laying in a deep recess can be brought to the light of day and shared with others. The process, and often the implications, are the same.

It is the implications of "coming out" - of a change in identity - that piques my interest. It also keeps me up at night.

Coming out is hard. It isn't like going from the identity of coupled woman to mother. That identity is clear and easy to see. It is one most people encounter on a regular basis, and for most people, there are no loose ends or questions raised by such an identity change.

The nature of coming out means the hidden identity or issue being brought into the open is uncomfortable, otherwise it wouldn't have been hidden. There is something shameful or uncomfortable, or difficult about this identity or issue, usually for both the self and others. It calls some fundamental thing into question - roles, relationships, actions, all shift to a new and strange place with this new identification.

Sometimes such identifications become the person. Literally, these difficult identities are so hard to get past for most other people, the self becomes two-dimensional. Suddenly the self is only lesbian, is only an addict, is only poor, is only an abuser, is only a victim, is only a criminal according to the other. Pigeon-holing abounds when the new issue comes to light. In order to overcome this shallowing process, the self must work extra hard to show up this new identity: I am green, progressive, Christian, athletic, multi-racial, multi-lingual, educated etc. These other identities are forced into competition with the "shameful" and marginalized new identity.

Some people choose to embrace their marginalized identity and center their lives around these things, for example a once battered woman turned activist who works with battered women. Another example would be a recovering alcoholic choosing to support others in their quest for sobriety. The centering of this identity surpasses a volunteer level, but moves to paid work as well as possible volunteering. Literally, life in these situations is entirely focused on this "shameful" identity.

The other possibility is to downplay such identities and to focus on something else. I think of the case of Maya Angelou who could have focused much of her writing and energy on the fact that she was molested and raped as a child. She could have written much of her work about - and championed victims of - sexual abuse and assault, however she did not. She chose a wider platform that included socio-economic, race, gender, and orientation identities rather than a single pigeon-holed identity of "victim."

Of course no one is a single thing. Each person has multiple facets, each informing the other. Experiences, preferences, and inherent abilities all contribute to the people we are. Often, however, one aspect or set of aspects stands out. One or a set of identities speaks to us more. We identify with a given set more strongly, and there are reasons for this (our experiences and preferences, for example).

This is where a given person's purpose lies - surrounding those identities of utmost importance.

However there is tension in balancing a person's purpose with the potential of pigeon-holing. There is tension surrounding that question of pigeon-holing and acceptance by others. Will I be stereotyped if I come out? Will I always be only this one thing? Will my identity overshadow my purpose? Will it interfere with achieving my life purpose? - asks the self.

Inevitably, the answer is: I don't know. We cannot know. The other is the one who answers these questions by their actions - their acceptance and rejection. It is only when the self is made vulnerable by coming out that the answer can be given and received. Until then, there is only anxious speculation.

We all have secrets. We all have hidden parts of ourselves. With every hidden piece, there is a debate regarding with whom we render ourselves vulnerable. For those who live more public lives - bloggers, writers, pastors, politicians, celebrities - the debate is more intense. The revelation of a secret self has more lasting and difficult implications. Will my brand be impacted? Will my image be impacted positively or negatively (because it will be impacted one way or another)? Is it worth it? Is it more important to be honest and authentic than to worry about the potential fallout? How strongly do I identify with this part of myself? If I decide to come out, how should I do it? Will it be quiet? Will it be for maximum impact? If so, what would create maximum impact?

These are the questions we ask ourselves. These are the questions that keep us up at night because there are no easy answers. There are no right answers. There are only answers that align with a person's purpose and those that do not. So it comes down to choice: what is your purpose? Who is your secret self? Will sharing your secret self with others further your purpose in this world? If the answer is yes, then it's time. It's time to come out.

Self Work is Never Done

Anyone who says they don't have more to work on is delusional.

There's always more to work on. There's always room for improvement. The more you do, the more likely you will succeed because the closer you are to mastery. If you're already a master, you will only get better.

The challenge is finding those places to improve. I mean, you and I, we're too close to ourselves to always figure out what work needs to be done. We may know something needs changing, but how do we find those areas of need? And then, how do we go about fixing them?

Lately I've been doing a lot of self-reflection. I'm in an uncomfortable situation in my life and there has been a lot of upheaval surrounding me. I see the world going to hell in a hand basket, and I feel out of control. There's little I can do about the world, but it would be nice if I had something to cling to that was more stable at home. I mean, something that was for sure...and safe...and well, easy.

Earlier this year I'd gotten into the habit of journaling and writing things I was grateful for every night. A little yoga before or after this journaling really made a difference too. And, then there was also the whole listening to affirmations thing I was doing. Well, for one reason or another, I got out of this habit. I substituted working out for this night time ritual (working out in the morning - not before bed! Geez!). At first, things continued going well.

But once again, I've gone to that dark place. I found myself frustrated with my situation and how slow change has been to come to my life. Instead, I felt like things were slowing down - or even going backwards.

I had so much going on in my head, I needed to do something. I picked up my journal. It seems, even with blogging, writing novels, and non-fiction books, I still have more words floating around that need release. The words, hateful, difficult, angry, disappointed, and depressed, flooded out. And then inspiration struck.

How could I change my life if I didn't know where I needed to change myself? My thinking was all wrong. I was so focused on negative things, on the fact that things weren't changing, on my unhappiness, there was no way I was going to move forward. I've read a bagillion self-help books in an effort to get ahead of my negative preoccupation, and I've had little luck. I needed something more pointed.

Cell phone to the rescue!

I found an app.

Surprising.

But there is an app, or twelve, that include personality/psychological tests to help you pinpoint areas where you need improvement. The one I found was Know Yourself. While the name leaves something to be desired, the comprehensive testing options and articles to combat issues found in your results were impressive.

I mean, I've taken a lot of those goofy tests...but none of them attached helpful content to my problem areas. In fact, few of them identified my problem areas the way this app did.

The Complete Personality Test was long, and the results were nearly as long as the test itself. However, the feedback was invaluable. It helped me unpack areas and habits that need attention (desperately!). It also affirmed other areas, some of which were pleasant surprises (things I never thought of came to light). I haven't yet been able to read all the attached articles, or put exercises in place to change my focus, but I'm hopeful. I feel like I'm on the right track, not only personally, but also professionally.

Sometimes you just need to get right with God, I mean, yourself. Yeah...yourself. ;-)

Hate Your Life - It's Good For You!

There are about a thousand things going through my head right now, but I'll try to keep to one or two because, well...that's usually a good idea when you're writing (even if you're writing in a casual setting like a blog).

To be completely honest, I had a total breakdown earlier this week. There was sobbing, statements made that I'd rather never repeat, and admissions that at another time in life may have only brought me down. I have long suffered the curse of self-doubt, self-deprecation, and many other wretched things.

I'm done. Well, at least for the foreseeable future.

I've been reinvigorated.

How, you're asking? Maybe you're thinking, I too have suffered these awful things and worse - much worse. My first world problems are the worst of anyone I know! Yes yes. I understand, and I am happy to share my secret. It came with a confession - the ultimate confession.

Currently, I hate my life.

I'll give you the rundown, not to make this into a pity party, but rather to be entirely factual and clear about where I'm coming from.

• I live with my parents - an increasingly common situation these days.
• I stay at home with my baby - granted he's a sweetheart, but I'm not exactly the stay at home type.
• I have very few friends (if I can say any) outside my family in my current location.
• I struggle to complete my writing goals, and compared to many, have a long way to go.
• I am not currently, nor have I ever worked in my field of study.
• Between my husband and I, we have a mountain of student loan debt.
• My husband works in an industry that does not pay well, despite the high level of expertise and responsibility required of him.
• I am not anywhere near the level of success I envisioned for myself as a younger person.

I hate that. All of that. I could let that hate consume me and make me wallow and take my situation into all new spectacular lows, and indeed, when I had this mini-meltdown, I thought it would.

To my great pleasure, it had the opposite effect.

Rather than dragging me down, it spurred me forward. It was a bit like living in that wretched apartment in Phoenix complete with termites, roaches, no working fridge or AC. I did that for 6 months. You see, I hated that apartment so much, I bought a house. Granted there were other issues with that, but I got the house I wanted and I loved that house while living the remainder of my time in Phoenix.

And that experience illustrates something else; high pressure wretchedness motivates me. It makes me want things - want things so badly I'll do anything to get what I want. So I will.

That's the key to all those crazy self-development books. Nothing else really matters. When you want something bad enough, you will do anything and everything to get it. When you do anything and everything, you will get it. That's what happens. The question is, do you want it badly enough? There is no half-assing at this level. You have to want it. Really. I mean...REALLY.

Fortunately, I do. I really, really do. Now if everyone around me could get on board with things (I'm thinking of the crying baby in the next room), we could get things moving towards some kind of wonderful.

When have you been spurred to change your situation? What was the moment of action for you? Leave a comment below!

Patience Through The Doldrums

The Doldrums are a place in the ocean where nothing moves – the water is still. The wind is still. To a sailor it is a kind of death. You can speed directly into the doldrums, and once there, you're stuck until by chance your luck turns and you find a current, however slow, that when combined with your oars, take you to a place of movement and life.

This is where I am right now. It's not just in writing or in business, but in life. I'm in the doldrums. It doesn't matter how sunny the day is, or how wonderfully smiley my son is – everything is gray and muddled and stuck.

I get like this whenever I feel like things aren't moving fast enough. I am a pretty fast moving person. Whenever I make a decision I take action immediately. I don't wait around. Yes, I might do research. I might collect information for a time, but once all of it is in, I don't dally. I don't waffle. I decide. When the decision has been made, everything falls into place because I decided it would be so. I move. I act. Things push forward. That's how the majority of my life has been.

Needless to say, I have a streak of impatience a mile wide.

For someone like me who decides to do things and acts with the urgency of an ER surgeon, it's hard when things don't move at my pace. I can't understand when people don't come to the same conclusions I do (What do you mean you don't already know and love my books? What do you mean you don't want to come to my writing class and bring all your friends and their friends?). I can't understand when people don't want to move on decisions with the same speed and certainty that I do (What do you mean you don't want to go right now?! What do you mean you don't know what you want out of life?!).

I don't live like that. I'm always moving to the next thing. But I also have slow days where all I do is eat Nutella covered toast and watch old movies on cable. Granted, I would choose to have fewer of those than more, but they do happen. It's kind of like a firefighter. There are moments of extreme nearly frenetic action, followed by clean up and card playing.

My husband is not like me. He is slow and deliberate. He takes his time with everything (except in crisis situations where his protective tendencies come out in full force). It's hard for someone like me to be married to someone like him. This is probably even worse when I'm hyped up on coffee at 7 AM and he hasn't been able to discern which way is up yet (okay, it's much worse).

Being married to someone who functions on a different pace is difficult, but it's not as difficult as when the whole world seems to function slower. I literally feel like the world is dragging me down. I feel like the wind has stopped and the water has stilled. My first inclination is to find a solution to this problem. Generally a solution for me means another project. But if I started a new project every time I fell into the doldrums, I'd be spread so thin I wouldn't accomplish anything.

It's a problem. A serious problem.

I want to work on things, but I'm stuck. In order to unstick myself, I need to work on things. I feel trapped by my reactions to stress, which is more stressful.

Are you dizzy yet? I am.

My decision to get out of the doldrums at this point is to work on an old story idea I had back in 2012. It's fun, doesn't require research or rereading of any of my books, and it can be worked on in chunks. Each chapter can be as long or short as I want because of the nature of the story. It's perfect. And then when I feel ready to return to something a little more difficult to write, I can. Meaningful progress. Thank God!

Keep Moving Forward

One of the things my SCORE mentor told me was to focus on one thing at a time. It was basically the whole cart before the horse advice.

Ahem.

I have problems with that.

Not the advice, but rather not following it. I seem to get ahead of myself a lot. It's a fault. It's self sabotage. It drives me crazy. I'm working on it.

It seems that through my writing and my relationships I've been working on a lot of personal faults, especially since I started THE BROTHERS. I didn't realize how much of a personal journey writing would become for me, or how much it would force me to grow and change. I didn't realize how often I'd have to confront my deep-rooted fear of failure.

Yes. I have been afraid of failure. I'm still afraid of it, at least a little bit. Now I realize it's more that I'm afraid I won't be as successful as I imagine myself to be. Big aspirations force big actions and my concern is that I won't be able to live up to this image of myself in my head.

But I'm also a bit manic (I know this might come as a shock to you...*grin*). That mania is something I had to fight through in order to finish and publish my books. The benefit of completing one was that I knew I could do it, so it was easier to do it a second time. Now I'm at the precipice of a new endeavor, something I've never done before and I'm more than a little freaked.

My old habit would be to tell myself, "Well, it didn't work immediately or as big as I thought it would, so now to move onto other things." But here's the thing - I can't do that. When I know something is good, I just can't let it go. This tenacity, an inherited trait from my mother, is a blessing. It's a blessing because it neutralizes this fatalist tendency I have and allows me to keep going.

It is possible that I will fail. It's possible that the world isn't ready for my idea or that I won't have enough sticking power to get through the tough moments. I don't know. Whatever the case may be, I'm going to keep working at it to see where this takes me. Already I've learned so much and grown so much as a person. I know things will only get better.

The Stress of Feeling Inferior During Pregnancy

I'm lying here wide awake and incapable of sleeping right now. Maybe it's just hormones or maybe it's the fact that I can't stop thinking about writing. Maybe it's the fact that I'm freaking out about what will happen in three weeks time when I no longer have a steady paycheck and I have yet to buy any baby things (no point until after the baby shower) or fully pay the midwives.

I'm a little stressed.

It's supposed to be bad for the baby.

When people tell me that, I can't help but think, "Yeah, so give me a way to destroy those stressors and I'll be able to sleep at night!"

I would love to not have to think about such things as how I'll pay for food, baby gear, or continue to make payments towards my stupidly sized educational debt, but I can't help it. It keeps coming back to me like a plague and there's no known cure. I don't know what to do except keep doing what I'm doing in an effort to hopefully overcome my situation.

I have these moments of crazy - literally - that involve breaking down everything to the most awful conclusion. They involve highlighting negative feelings and faults in those around me and my life generally.  These are horrible times, usually when I'm tired, and I feel like I haven't done enough.

I don't know if it's the nesting thing or if it's my life expectations combined with hormones, but I look at pictures of people from my pregnancy forums and Facebook and strangers in magazines and I feel inferior. I feel like I have somehow failed because I live in a loft which I rent. I live too near a freeway in a concrete jungle. I have a car that needs about a thousand things replaced to look even remotely decent and not make odd noises when I drive it. I have fat upper arms and cellulite on my thighs that makes me doubt my attractiveness every time I see a picture or video of an unpregnant woman. I paid too much money for two degrees that I haven't used and continue to cause me financial hardship. I haven't lived up to my professional potential. A night out on the town right now involves going to a chain restaurant and shopping at Target.

And when I look at things in this way, I am disguested and ashamed and utterly embarrassed. I was supposed to be that amazing person that everyone wanted to be able to say, "I knew her when..." I was supposed to be the person who made something of herself - who was spectacular and did things that other people only fantasized about doing in their wildest dreams.

So I'm left wondering what I've been doing with my time and feeling like I have failed myself and all those people who had such high hopes for me. I feel like I may as well have been flipping burgers or stocking shelves all this time.

That's how I feel in those moments when I take stock of my life and compare it to the huge dreams and expectations I have for myself.

And I want to wallow in it. I really do. I want to wallow and whine and complain and have a full on pity party in the most teenage whiney way possible. I actually do.

Except I hate people like that and I am disgusted by people who won't help themselves. Thankfully this is a strong part of who I am - big enough to counteract all the ridiculous bitching and moaning with some reason.

I haven't been wasting my time. I've learned a lot. Things went weird, some were unexpected, and I had some bad luck. That is for sure. However, life isn't over. Things change in a moment. I'm spending a lot of time on a dream I just can't shake, and that's more than a lot of people do in their whole lives. If it wasn't hard, it wouldn't be worth doing. My success wouldn't be nearly so satisfying. The achievement of publishing 7 or 8 books from my writing challenge in a matter of months wouldn't mean nearly as much. The fact that I'm doing it in my second and third trimesters just makes it that much more awesome. I'm not a failure. I'm fricking amazing.

So yes, I can't buy things I want right now. I have to sacrifice a little comfort for a dream. Yes I have to be a little creative and forgo some things that if I had any extra money at all I would buy (like a shiny steering wheel or new shocks or more importantly, a house big enough to grow into). But just like this on again off again pregnancy anxiety I'm feeling, this situation is temporary. It's not forever. A person doesn't publish 7 or 8 books at once without getting a little attention (or at least a little more name recognition).

The moral of this is, hang in there. This uncomfortable time doesn't last long. And when it's over, you're going to be so amazed at what you were able to do, and probably others will too.