Since I’m finishing editing that book I’ve been editing FOREVER SO FAR, a number of questions and tasks have popped up in my head, including but not limited to: Girl, you need to rework your query letter And also, when will you finish editing your other two manuscripts? Because you have to finish writing book…
Tag: work
The grit
Hey, hey, hey, guys! I’m feeling obnoxiously hyper today, all positive for whatever reason. Maybe it’s because after months struggling to get much done, I got my groove back, and I’m PRODUCING big time. FINALLY, and against the odds (read: my own procrastination and laziness), I managed to finish editing my sci-fi book (for the…
When the doors close
It’s been weird lately. I want to cry about this to everyone who’d listen, but I know I shouldn’t. Nobody needs my crap, my sadness, my rants. Anyway, rejection hurts. It is a scary space to inhabit and so damaging. I’m trying to focus on enjoying writing and believing in my projects, but the fear…
The 2020 agenda
I love lists. Lists are the only way I can get anything done. The sheer pleasure of crossing off something I’ve successfully completed/done is similar to the pleasure the chocolate and cake I devoured during NYE gave me. Guys, I ate way too much. Anyway, I started off the year by: Sleeping in Eating more…
2020
As probably 90% of Earth’s population, I was slightly panicking about the impending beginning of a new decade, thinking I’ve done nothing with my life so far, regretting imaginary and real decisions I respectively imagined and actually made; wondering, “what the fuck next?” The truth is, the past ten years were fruitful, interesting, invigorating, and…
The price of writing. Part 1: your day job
Do I need to say more? Look, I’m immensely grateful for my job. It’s afforded me plenty of opportunities and experiences. It’s helped me achieve many dreams and goals. It keeps me alive. But ever since I started writing, working a day job became incredibly taxing. I can’t focus as well as I used to,…
Writer friends, or foes?
Silence is a writer’s friend. Except when it comes to music. I wonder how people write without music, because there are people who write in silence and that’s crazy to me. The only silence I enjoy is the one produced by the absence of unfamiliar/unwanted human noise. And I don’t only mean I need people…
Taking charge of my life
I am (or have tricked myself into thinking so?) a confident person. Nah: it’s not a trick. I am confident. Bad news, guys: I don’t care if you despise me for not hating myself. I like me. Deal with it. It’s not lack of (insert over self-conscious concept here), it’s just that I don’t really…