Writer Life Changes

Things change once you start writing seriously.

You start reading books and "editiing" as you go. Even with J.K. Rowling and Nora Roberts if an awkward sentence jumps out at me, I reword it. I think I'm better at sinking into a story than I was, but I imagine it comes in cycles.

You go back and read books that you LOVED and see major plot holes, or that the endings just were TERRIBLE and you've ruined the story for yourself. I won't read some books again, but I DO have the memory of enjoying the book.

You hang out with people where you can talk writing for more than two minutes without their eyes glazing over. You start resenting those parties where you CAN'T talk about writing more than two minutes.

If you're an introvert you start holing up in your house, living in your imagination more than is wise.

You start caring about grammar and punctuation (more). Even I care about grammar and punctuation more than I did, and usually it leaves me completely unmoved.

And your anxiety dreams change. That happened to me a couple of nights ago. Throughout my life I've moved through the usual ones -- showing up at a test after having not been in class all year. Forgetting where my locker was (sometimes it's the middle school locker, for heaven's sake!). Walking down hallways naked. Forgetting an important legal deadline and getting fired.

A couple of nights ago I showed up at a signing unprepared. Wow! A real "author" anxiety dream. Of course I have a presentation this Saturday and need to work on it, so I know where the dream came from -- but, like, it wasn't trying to find my locker!

The huge ballroom was set up. The tables were draped with white linen. I walk in and see my name card. I have nothing with me (and I usually DO forget something -- goodies, poster of the new book, something...), but no tote bag full of stuff, autograph stickers etc. that I usually carry with me.

So, no, I didn't enjoy the dream (not even when it morphed into a buffet at the other side of the room), but I'm sort of pleased that I seem to have taken a step in my own mind. My unconscious has decided I'm an author, and that I'll continue to be an author. That's got to count for something.

May your unconscious bring you lots of goodies today.
Robin