Companion to Day Thirty-Three: Storms part 1
3:30pm
Rain poured until my clothes were rough as rocks. We sailed, but we couldn’t see. Sol made us stay on watch – staring into the stormy dark.
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Keeping watch at night is boring, but at least there are stars.
Unless it’s cloudy.
Then you see sky (grey), water (darker grey), lack of land (grey) and lack of other ships (also grey).
This is why pirates become good storytellers.
What Will Change
. . . when I’m published. (Nope, haven’t heard from Harper Collins yet.)
Novel publication definitely counts as a major life change.
If you imagine working full-time for a charity that has absolutely no-one willing to accept their soup/clothes/etc, then that gives you some idea of what it’s like to be a beginning writer. (Particularly if you were hired with the clause that you would PROBABLY, EVENTUALLY be paid half minimum wage on a semi-regular basis.)
Like all life changes, there will be new stresses – what if no-one buys the book? What if everyone who does hates it? What if THIS book is great but all the others are rubbish? How can I concentrate now everything’s changed?
I LOVE new stresses. The joy of moving furniture. . . into a NEW HOUSE. The insomnia of learning to sleep. . . WITH SOMEONE BESIDE ME. The pressure of writing. . . WITH AN AUDIENCE.
But you can certainly expect some whining. It’ll just be HAPPY whining.
Over a period of several months, I will grow to accept a new meaning, purpose, and sense of self-esteem in life. I’m aware dignity and self-esteem are meant to be intrinsic, but the fact is that when our work is valued, our psyche responds (and vice versa). So I predict a general improvement in emotional well-being, and probably an increase in self-control (eg eating habits) as a result.
My marriage has been a process of shifting my focus from some hazy (but bright) future into a clear (and shining) present. I suspect publication will be like that too.
Best of all, since I’ll actually be paid for my work (a little), I will personally downgrade my mental illness to “eccentricity”. Because everyone’s a LITTLE mental, and it’s just a matter of how bad it is. Once you get paid for your weirdness (or, in my case, the inability to do work other than writing), the bug becomes a feature.
So I’ll be differently nervous, generally happier, and sane.
I guess that IS a bit different.
Companion to Day Thirty-Two: Sea Princess
Sol and I practised swordfighting, and I noticed her hands were soft.
‘A princess ain’t much,’ she growled at me, ‘just a slave in a dress.’
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Personally, I’d rather be myself than a princess. Would you?
Felicity Banks 