Growth and Reflection

It's been half a year since the release of The Morbid Fascinations of David Bennett. I can't believe it's been that long, actually closer to seven months now. It's also bee roughly six months since I began my current work in progress.

So much has changed with the world, and my perspective on it since my debut released into the world. I have learned how to appreciate criticism without letting it devastate me. I have also learned to discern what qualifies as criticism versus knit picking or tearing down. I also have learned to appreciate that people will have very different reactions to my work depending on their own philosophy. It should have been obvious to begin with, but I was singularly focused and pretty obliviously obtuse about what life as an author is really like.

In the best moments it has been overwhelming, uplifting, vindicating, and just pure fun.

In the worst moments it has been frustrating, draining, humbling, and downright devastating.

You know what, though? I wouldn't trade it for the world.

My writing routine looks a lot different than it did a year ago. Back then I was struggling to find time to write amid a busy life as a work from home dad. Then, when I started drafting my current novel I had more scheduled time and it flowed much better. Now, I have time, support, but I also have extended periods of malaise as a direct result of the pandemic sweeping across the globe. It all makes life feel rather pointless, these days. Some days are better than others. I went from a pace that allowed me to complete the first draft of my current work in four months to being stuck in the first act of the second draft for the past two months.

So, what have I learned about the journey of being a writer, so far? It's not just a job or a career -- it's a lifestyle. It's a complete immersion into a new way of existing...and unless you can handle wear and tear, physically and mentally, it's going to wear you down like a jagged stone in a river. A year ago I was a very jagged rock. Now I'm but a humble little pebble who has learned to let the current flow around me without sweeping me away with it.