Does God Talk To You?
I’ve been in another publishing funk of late where I’ve really begun to question the wisdom of continuing to write. Why? I whine to myself like a grouchy two-year-old. Why, when there are so many aspects of indie publishing I abhor, am I still doing it? What is the point? I keep coming back to that, and the answer is there doesn’t seem to be a point to any of that. My books do not sell. They are not read by more than a handful of people. I make virtually no money from them. I invest my own money in publishing them. It seems to be an exercise in stupidity.
As part of my funk I’ve been coloring. Like I’ve completely lost it and I’m in an institution, and this is part of my therapy. (Although I doubt they’d give me pencils with pointy tips there.) I’ve thought, how about if I quit writing and just color? It’s creative. It’s soothing. There’s no angst involved. I don’t have to worry about editing, formatting, uploading, ISBN snafus, cover art, bankrupt publishers, the cash drain. I’ll drink wine and I’ll color. No one will miss my writing, or my books, or my constant whining about the difficulties of indie publishing.
It isn’t that I can’t write or that I have no talent. Many of the few readers I do have have become actual fans. But…is that enough?
But before I give up…maybe I better check with God. Because I’d really hate to give up something He wants me to do. And it isn’t the writing that’s got me in this funk. It’s everything else. (See my journal entries below.)
And if I needed another sign? See the entry in God Calling for today.