Right after NaNo, I jumped back into my old TeaNovel. I posted that lovely calendar for myself in a burst of energy.
And then I reread TeaNovel.
It was...not as good as I expected.
I began to see some of the flaws that I hadn't seen before. I saw that though the pacing was good, the mood wasn't set, and it was all a bit shallow. It didn't have enough depth.
And I was moaning and groaning to myself, whining that I had already rewritten TeaNovel 3 times, that I thought that I had mostly untangled knots that weren't supposed to be there.
I was afraid, really afraid that I would spend so much effort to do this, but in the end, it would all be for nothing. The publishing world really is fair. I believe in that strongly.
Today I realized something.
Now, I have to be willing to work.
This isn't the school world, where you write snippets of essays and turn them in for a grade, and if it was long and well-thought, it got high marks. Not to mention that the teachers are obligated to read the papers.
The publishing world isn't like that.
It is real. I am on the real arena, the real stage, being evaluated. In short, I have to ask myself: would someone spend potentially hours, weeks reading this?
I was used to half-ass my way through school and get good grades. Now that I'm in high school, it's considerably more challenging, but still I'm not walking along the edge, completely focused, my stakes hanging on the tightrope.
But for writing, I finally realize what it means to completely devote yourself to something that you love, to be willing to put in hours and days and potentially months and years to dedicate yourself to this one story that could potentially fall short.
I have to try anyways.
The fear is there, real and ever-present. It resembles a small house-elf, staring at me with its spiteful little eyes. "You can't do it," it says. "Go back and do legitimate things. You're not good enough."
I try to be patient with the little monster. Give it cake and listen to the sharp, brutal words.
And I try really, really hard to take in the fear.
It still is difficult.
But what else can I do?
Because in moments like these, there is no choice other than to pour your heart into something like this.
Don't complain, Christina. You're doing what you love and in the end, you have to work as hard as you wish for it.