It's funny, I can be full of confidence with my writing and know that it is good one day. The next, a couple of incidents can bring me sinking down into a murky pit of misery that not even a reading good book will cure. I don't think I'm bi-polar, but it's certainly a roller coaster ride. Self-doubt is the bane of the writer, I suppose. Being in the right place at the right time, knowing the right people, these seem to be more important in getting ahead in this game. Sometimes, even if you don't doubt your ability, you still never get that break.I often worry that I don't have what it takes to succeed in this area. It's not because I doubt my writing, rather that I'm completely rubbish with other professional aspects. I am no good at brown-nosing. Can't do it. It's not in me to give credit where it isn't due. At the same time, I'll always give it where it is. I also refuse to pretend to like people purely to network and further my career. I'd prefer to genuinely like you instead. Then we can help each other. I'll give everyone a chance, and always start any new relationship on an open, positive level. If I find someone to be hostile, or their practises shady, then I don't keep that connection, work or personal. It's really that simple. Why would anybody want anything remotely connected to hostility or shadiness? Greed. It would send my moral compass spinning. I guess this means I'm screwed.
There is the emotional side; continually trying to pick myself up and tell myself it's only a matter of time. On normal days I can stick it out, wear a protective armour of confidence and positivity, and plough full-steam ahead with projects. Other days I consider the point of continuing to pursue a writing career. I've always written, and will continue to do so. But professionally? Is it really worth constantly persisting, hoping? Well, my answer is yes.Yes it is.
Persistence and hope are all I've got, and I've not got much of them either. I may not be great at networking, but I'll continue do it. There's a good chance that somewhere along the way I'll encounter others who believe good business is a product of good practise. After all, I've met some pretty decent folks so far. Besides, writing is the only real cure for me. Perhaps I am using it as a form of therapy, but by golly does it make me feel better. When the words begin to flow it's as though I've been holding my breath for a long time and suddenly I'm able to breathe normally again. If I keep trying, at least I'll know if I don't succeed. I'd rather that then the alternative.