Christmas books are out, and getting a lot of airtime in the Indie circles. I had decided several months ago, I would have one. I even wrote a rough draft, and sent it through a beta reader or two. But it was a little depressing to write, and I hadn't gotten back to it.
See, it was depressing, because it is about a married couple who has seemingly lost the love, and in desperation, turn elsewhere. It has a happy ending, and doesn't involve "real" cheating, but it was depressing to write nonetheless.
I am happily married, have been for almost fourteen years. But every marriage has had it's down times, and focusing on those down times to write this book was sickening. I am the type of person who doesn't like to dwell on the negative, and that's a real downer when I write. I have to revisit negative feelings in order to write about them realisticaly, and negative parts of my marriage arent' fun at all.
So, here I am, working on revisions for my holiday novella, and it's just as depressing as writing the damn thing. It's like pulling teeth, forcing myself to sit down and re-read, and revise what I've written. Yesterday, I got so frustrated, I got up and got on faceboook and did some marketing for Neighborly Complications. Last night it was #2 in the free erotica store, that should tell you how I threw myself into it to keep from working on the holiday thing.
Today, I'm not giving myself that option. It's Friday, and I don't work on weekends, so anything I want to get done for the next two days has to be done today. So I will work on it, and I'll probably be in an atrocious mood later, but that's okay. It's part of the job.
Internalizing.
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