Somehow, I over-committed. It was out of love, as usual. Love of words, love of writing, love of friends.
Between work, trying to market Symphony of Dreams, helping a friend with his manuscript, working on a solo-performance, and trying to get The Courier ready for publication, I lost “something.” First, my sense of humor seemed to vanish (except at points of near hysteria). Then, I couldn’t track what I was working on. I had to keep an updated list for every little thing. No matter what I was doing, I felt I should be doing something else. A sense of panic set in. One day, I realized I had completely lost perspective.
Everything. (Except work. Like most of us, I have bills to pay.)
I was sick about returning the friend’s manuscript. But he accepted it with understanding and encouraged me to take some time off. For a couple of weeks, I just flopped around not knowing where to go or what to do. I waited, hoping my internal voice would point me in the right direction. And it did.
For now, I have backed off a little on the marketing of Symphony. I am taking turns working on The Courier and the solo piece.
Tonight, I sat down to watch and old DVD a friend loaned me. There, in front of the screen when my mind was free of have to-s and will do-s, I found that “something” I’d lost.
And here it is: It’s not getting everybody’s attention that matters most. It’s what you say while you have it. Right?
My feeling exactly. I came to a point where I had to ask myself what was more important to me, marketing my existing books or writing a new one. The choice was simple. I MUST write. I don’t have to market. Getting mired on social media is an ugly feeling–sort of like your cow trapped in quicksand.