Sometimes the Internet is just plain scary. I logged in today with the intent of writing a fluffy little post about my first QVC purchase (I've gotten sucked into so many of their pitches and thought I needed what was being sold, but this is the first time I made the plunge). I'm very pleased with the purchase, and it was fun, and it was in the grand scheme of things, pointless, especially in a writing-related blog, but I like celebrating firsts of all kinds, and I was going to celebrate with you.
Then I stopped by several of the blogs I follow. Everyone out there has serious topics of late: how writing saved their life, changed them, helped them find something better than abusive relationships; how hard the industry is; how the novel length I've chosen is probably too long for a debut author...
Scary stuff (though the article about writing saving the author's life was very powerful—it just was much more serious than my mood). I don't need doubts planted by other people. I'm rational enough to be able to tell when what I write is good (and I have had feedback, real non-Mom feedback, that supports both my good and bad opinions about my work, so I know I'm not delusional). I get along pretty well in a bubble of hope and inspiration and determination. Being told that it's hard doesn't help. Being told that I'm writing too much...well, it's good to know, but at this phase in the writing process, I can't think about word count too much. I have to focus on a good story and cut and trim later.
Which is why I'm going to check out Cute Overload and then log off, because I don't need the added pressure of an industry's collective doubts and fears.