There was a day last week when I caught myself sending query letters, calling copyright holders, scheduling interviews and guest spots on podcasts, plotting out a new story, and checking in with a publisher. All at once.
It’s not often that I feel like a professional – like a real writer – but I felt it that day. And it felt good.
Days like that are necessary for someone like me. Being an indie writer is more or less defined by the dreaded imposter syndrome and the overwhelming sense you’re screaming into the void. And it’s the same void as plenty of other screamers. And your voice isn’t even the loudest one.
Perseverance is more pivotal than a thick skin. You have to keep yourself motivated and optimistic, and the days when it feels like you know what the hell you’re doing can do wonders. The effects linger, but not for long.
I’ll be taking advantage of it while it lasts.