November 30, 2009

The deflated balloon

Some days I love my book. On those days my confidence is like a perfect, shiny, round balloon.

Other days I convince myself that my book is absolute droll, no one will ever read it - much less publish it - and I have wasted the last 2 years of my life. Then my confidence is like a dejected, deflated balloon.

Today is a deflated day. I look at my manuscript and all I see is flaws, flaws, flaws. I cannot concentrate and meander from one file to the next, mentally flagging all the things I have to fix before my book is agent-ready.

Essentially, I'm kicking myself while I am down.

The only solution I have found so far to stop the Deflated Balloon Syndrome is to have my husband, Bear, read parts of my manuscript. Bear is as supportive as anyone possibly could be. He is the one who convinced me that trying to become an author was a worthwhile endeavor. He is honest and tells me kindly when something is wrong with my writing.

When Bear reads, my poor little balloon fills with confidence again.

I definitely need him to read when he gets home from work. The demons of self-doubt have an iron grip on me today. All I can see is clumsy mechanics and plot holes; nothing flows, nothing makes sense, nothing is right.

Bear helps me see my manuscript as a story again, reminds me that I am talented, and restores my sense of purpose in writing.

Every Catt needs a Bear.

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