Most days I'd tell you old Ernest was a being a bit dramatic.--though, then again, he was a writer and drama is a big part of what writerss do. But today, just now, I'm ready to agree with him. The funny thing is, the writing itself goes well. I have several projects on my computer and I switch back and forth between them, a routine that works for me though I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to anyone else. And currently, I've been working on my romantic comedy and I like how it's coming together.
Just. There are so many things in writing beyond my control--how readers will like what I've put to the page, how reviewers will see my work, how many books I'll be able to sell, how many hits a guest blog I post will receive. These factors are no more mine to rule than the weather next Tuesday. I can't make the sun shine. And, some days I feel like I'm doing this writing thing for myself and myself only., like I'm singing to an empty room and the music echoes off the walls, and back to my ears.
No matter, is what I tell myself. Just keep on writing to the empty room.. If you're lucky, someone will hear your words and take them to heart.