Heinlein’s Rules keep coming back to haunt me:
You must write.
You must finish what you write.
You must refrain from rewriting, except to editorial order (Harlan’s addendum: and then only if you agree).
You must put your writing on the market.
You must keep your writing on the market until it’s sold.
Robert J. Sawyer’s Sixth Rule: Start working on something else.
I’ve been saying for years (decades, really, and that … hurts to admit) that I want to write and publish original fiction.
I haven’t been good about actually DOING that. How many half-done, abandoned projects do I have?
Mnemosyne
Atlantis
Colony Rangers
Doppelgangers
Lucius and the other immortals
Twins in various incarnations
Why did I abandon them?
I have two completed short stories – why have I not done covers for them and published them?
Why have I been focusing on fanfiction so much, rather than original fiction?
What am I afraid of?
Making more money than Hubby? (Even though he’s told me that’s not an issue for him. More to the point: even though we’re already set for retirement?)
Failing to sell anything? (It’s not like I’m selling anything NOW.)
Is it just laziness? Taking the easy way out, because I write good fanfiction and I have a lot of fans, and that’s easy and comfortable.
Do I take refuge in fanfiction because it’s comfortable? TOO comfortable?
Do I just not want to take a risk? But that comes back to, what am I afraid of?
Am I afraid people won’t like it, I mean REALLY won’t like it and turn stalkerish and/or dox me?
Yeah, that’s part of it, and I hate that it is. But it happened to Mercedes Lackey; it could (however unlikely) happen to me.
When I write, I keep hearing the Inner Critic whispering, “You’re not doing it right,” whatever that *it* might be – description, characterization, plot, whatever. It’s easier to appease the Inner Critic in fanfiction, because “it’s only fanfiction; it doesn’t really matter.”
Somewhere, I got the idea that original fiction *matters* in a way that fanfiction doesn’t, and that’s been killing me creatively.
A lot of writers talk about reclaiming the joy in writing, or as Holly Lisle once put it, taking a busman’s holiday and writing something fun, just for myself, something I’d never, ever dream of publishing. But …
But – what? I don’t know, really. It just seems like that doesn’t work for me. I’ve tried writing things just for me, and almost every time, that Inner Critic comes in – Inner Critical Bitchy Meddler – ICBM, like the weapon.
What do I gain by not writing, not publishing, original fiction? If I don’t try, I can’t fail. If I don’t try, nobody will make fun of me (or otherwise criticize me).
Many things have come easily for me; it hurts that writing fiction hasn’t been one of them.
That sounds like I’m disappointed in myself; well, I am. I know it’s the ICBM, but I keep thinking, if I wanted this, why haven’t I taken real, honest-to-God steps to achieve it?
I answer: I didn’t/don’t want it badly enough. But what does that mean?
Does it mean I get more out of saying “I’m writing X” than actually writing and publishing X? But I regularly finish fanfiction and publish it – 70 works so far. If that were original fiction, it would be a career.
As it is, it’s just a hobby.
Do I want the writing to be a hobby? A hobby I’ve sunk a few thousand dollars into learning to do?
I’ve sunk a few thousand into classes and books and conferences; Tom’s spent tens of thousands on games.
It’s not a competition.
It’s about enjoying the process, all of it. I haven’t been doing much of that lately – not even with the fanfiction.
I’m writing “Child of Iron, Goblet of Fire” because my fans want it. Oh, not entirely so; there are parts of it that I think have real spark in them, of course. But … the joy of writing “Man of Iron, Child of Magic” was introducing Tony to the magical world.
That’s done, now. So what’s the joy in “Child”? Figuring that out, or finding it, or listening for it, has been what’s slowed me down in the writing, and why the sequel to “Ad Astra” keeps dropping down the priority/enthusiasm list.
If I never publish original fiction, how much will I regret it? Would not publishing original fiction be…would that be dying with my song stuck in my throat? Would that be too-tight shoes that have forgotten how to dance?
Would that be wasting my potential? Or not living up to my potential?
I go round and round on this, more like a Ferris wheel than a merry-go-round: ups and downs, highs and lows.
I’ll resolve to quit writing fanfiction and focus on original fiction, and then original fiction starts feeling like work, like something I have to be good at, and “Are you doing that right? You’re not doing that right.”
Funny how my F-off muscle can be so strong when I’m dealing with others and so weak when I’m dealing with myself.
But then, aren’t we all like that? We all can tell everyone else how to fix their problems, but we suck at telling ourselves how to fix our problems.
The advice I remember from Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way” comes back to me: Easy does it. Gently, be gentle with yourself/your artist.
I’m not sure I know how.
