Today is a sad day. The second sad day of its kind. A few weeks ago the publishers of my first book wrote to tell me they wouldn’t be publishing my second book. Today the second publisher I tried told me the same. Gutted doesn’t cover how I feel right now.
I am running out of publishers who will take unsolicited submissions, so I’m now looking for publishing agents (I just found one that also doesn’t accept unsolicited submissions – I’m not quite sure how that works; do I need an agent to find an agent?) Anyway, I am seriously thinking it might be quicker and easier to start a small publishing agency business, and sending my book out from there to publishers.
I have had the rug pulled from under me, having floated on a cloud of pride and sense of achievement for months following publication of first book. I did something with my life – me! Imagine that! I brushed aside the paranoia and disappointment of receiving no reviews as ‘BPD thinking’ and focussed on the fact that I was a published author. My book wasn’t a best seller, again – disappointing, but it was selling slowly but surely and I was an author!
Today I am, as the saying goes, back to Earth with a bloody great thwack! I am gutted and riddled, once again, with self doubt and self hate. I feel ashamed and embarrassed and I don’t want people to know that i have failed.
I wasn’t planning on telling anyone my book had been rejected. I was going to wait until I had a publisher and make a grand announcement, as though the opportunity fluttered gracefully into my lap like a feather. And yet, I am writing this because I want to be honest. I have written many blogs from a place of stability and good mental health and I hope I have done my bit for mental health awareness. And here, in this low place, I want to hide my face from my friends until I am shiny and smiley and positive again. But that is not a true representation of the struggle that is sometimes life.
These feelings will pass, eventually – they always do. So I am still fighting but without much sense of hope or purpose – does that even qualify as fighting? I don’t know, but I am fighting the darkness from the inside out and for me, right now, that is hard work and it is enough.
I won’t give up, and as much as the little niggly voices within might try and convince me to stop writing, I won’t! I will write and I will add my voice to the throng of mental health warriors and survivors for whatever that’s worth.
Onwards and upwards, dear comrades. Or maybe I’ll just stay here for a few moments and wait till I can breathe (and smile) again.