Imposter Syndrome Returns

Here we are with nowhere left to run…

Like a reluctant dog taking a bath, so too must this aspiring resident of Waterstones struggle against the crippling self-criticism that lumbers into residence whenever it’s time to post those speculative applications.

Pithy posters abound, #hastag support flows like a river, yet the monkey sits firmly on your back forever chipping away at whatever remains of your confidence…

All is NOT doom and gloom, the black dog is just a Labrador.

We wonna be a Flintstone…

Horace Wimp succeeds because he preserves; we can do this.

She’s five foot two, she’s taken all that’s been thrown at her and she’s still standing tall.

The tale is a good one.

It is a real page turner.

Sell the book.

Enthuse your tale.

Keep it simple.

Don’t panic.

Have faith.

Turn the volume up to eleven!

Dance like nobody’s watching – you know the rest!

You are in the arena, celebrate and be happy!

Fishing at Tesco’s

And into our inbox she comes!

A nice rejection.

Sorry, but NO.

These things are as much the life of a writer as swimming is to fish; but even the fish eventually got tired of the water and walked on dry land!

Maybe too I need that evolutionary leap?

I’ve been pushing Amy Grace: Thomas Payne.

Perchance it isn’t them and it is indeed me?

Scary, but possible – the statistics would support such a hypothesis.

Page one MUST be sufficient to draw you in, to lock you into a tumultuous love affair with the story – possibly mine doesn’t.

I’ve changed the beginning before – so why not again?

Back in 2014 when book one was known by another name (Khartoum) our opening page was an instant explosion of violence that indeed made Saving Private Ryan look exceedingly tame.

But we changed it.

We toned it down.

What was an unapologetic single page describing the pain and humiliation of a young woman being raped was changed. 

Versions that followed didn’t alter what was to happen to young Amy, but they did lead the reader to it, they offered some context, they offered a more abstract telling of that tale.

I know that I must pass the 30-second scan when seeking publication, I must INSTANTLY intrigue the (jaded) reader of manuscripts…

A slow burner I don’t think is acceptable.

The gradual building of layer upon layer of intrigue doomed to survive the cursory glance.

I don’t think I can revert back to the original one-hundred and twenty-one words, so I must engineer a solution, or forever fall at the first hurdle. 

I want you to read my book.

I want you to read my book because it IS a good story.

It is!

I will improve it’s telling.

But it is a good tale worthy of reading.

So undeterred, we strive to evolve, we adapt to improve, and we plod ever onwards.

Fall seven, stand eight!

Oh, the title of this missive – a ditty by The Senseless Things

They shoot horses, don’t they?

Indeed, yes, they do.

Not a spoiler, but a thinly veiled hint of what is to come with the continued adventures of Miss Amy Grace.

Most folk have been going slightly mad with the whole Covid-19 thing.

Me, I’ve discovered that my cold wasn’t just a cold, it was in fact Covid-19 – which is nice to know and I’m now suffering the aftereffects of a nice lung infection thing!!!

Go me!

It seems that all the coughing and spluttering I’ve been doing wasn’t attention seeking Man-Flu after all.

Maybe that’s why my creative output has been so miserably low???

It would be nice to blame my lack of creativity on the current virus of choice – but alas personal accountability has to come into play, and truth be told, and shame admitted, I just haven’t been putting in the effort.

Not the Alcoholics Anonymous revelation it could or indeed should be.

It’s not as if the imaginative juices have become a dried up river bed in a dust bowl of ideas, quite the contrary, ideas a plenty continue to flow.

I just haven’t utilised this ever present bounty… 

So, of all the creative problems that exist with writing, it seems mine is that of actually writing!

Oh, and to top it all the clock has ticked, days have passed and the old “if you don’t here from us, assume it’s a no” has happened (again).