Taming Reality

So this is my life right now: full-time writer/author, weekly unemployment checks, a game plan, lots of hopes and fears, and one big dream. I go to counseling once or twice a month so I can have an objective, unbiased view of my life from the outside. Yes, I have a loving and supportive family bursting with advice and ideas but sometimes I just want my family to be family and nothing more complicated. Just be good company, share good food and good laughs, and even a memorable game of boys vs. girls Pictionary, or even a fishing trip. You know: build good memories.

I’m in a wonderful yet delicate situation and my family is reacting with an understandable amount of fear. I’m getting advice from many angles, which is appreciated, but I’m also getting perplexed reactions. Friend, family, or stranger, they don’t know how to react to this dice roll in my life. Their reactions are unsurprising. I don’t expect anyone to understand.

I don’t know what it was about Friday, but I managed to eke out a whopping page in my post-apocalypse fantasy book. Instead I spent a lot of the day feeling like I need to cry. Thing is, the tears were stuck in my chest. I tried to remedy my jammed emotions with workaholic mode. Instead, I spent hours trying to get that one page out. I mostly stared at the blank spaces between blue lines and thought in circles about the story. I just couldn’t get into my characters’ heads. Their reaction to my frustration? Just wait. They didn’t panic; they did tell me to stop forcing it. So I listened.

I took my buzzing iMac to Apple’s Genius Bar, found out it’s just a fan and I’ll have my computer back in a few days (composing this blog from my 2006 computer), took my mom’s yellow lab to the dog park and watched him prance around with that big lab smile, along with snapped at him a few times to stop humping other dogs in the name of establishing a pecking order, and then I got engrossed in watching Despicable Me until my mom phoned me to come pick her up.

Oh, I also played an awesome round of League of Legends in the morning as Mordekaiser (lovingly nicknamed “Whoredekaiser”), teaming up with an Aussie friend of mine who played Blitzcrank (nicknamed “Fondlebot”). It was touch-and-go from the beginning, so I went for survivability, instead of damage output, and that gave my team the tankiness it needed to win 5v5 fights. I laughed, I screamed, I shook my fist at the other team, and in one epic clash, I was the sole survivor of all ten of us. *Flex*

Anyway, the morning’s distractions gave way to a melancholy I couldn’t figure out how to shake. I did lots and lots of thinking–evaluating my life, looking back at where I’ve come from, browsing other people’s success stories and noting how abridged their coverage is, looking where I’m possibly headed, asking myself if I’m doing the right thing, etc. I got to the point where I emailed my ePublisher, who went through the same joblessness and all-or-nothing approach to his own writing, which paid off just last year. This is what he said:

“These days, everyone is so focused on the traditional way of living even though it’s falling apart and don’t realize that success means taking risks. No risk, no gain.
I basically said to people, if I do this, and it doesn’t work, I can at least look back on my life and say that I tried. I will have no regrets. Otherwise I will. And if it does work out? Well, then I have an awesome life that few people can say they have, and I’m telling you Angie, I say to Cassie about three times a day about how much I love our life and how great it is. Words can’t express how great it is. But it takes sacrifice. Otherwise, by just going right into a traditional job, we already know the outcome of our life. Work like 30+ years, retire (which for us is impossible since social security will be gone, so will pensions and cost of living will go up). Basically, with a traditional job, we already know the ending to our story.
It might be hard, and it might not work out, but at least there’s that possibility.”
So here I am with nothing but my own thoughts to distract me from giving my life’s passion my all. While I’m scared as the rest of my family, I’d be a fool to not try. I have no backup plan if it fails. I’ll worry about that if such a day ever comes around. I’m doing everything in my power to make that day never exist. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t try.
Wish me luck! And, if you are interested, take a look-see at my About page to find the link to my first fantasy novel of a trilogy Shield of the Gods. It’s the story of a teenage girl whom a god has charged with protecting the mortal realm. Thank you.
Advertisements

About Angela Macala-Guajardo

Author, teacher, soon-to-be full time writer for two companies. Also a lover life in the Arizona desert, puppy butt wiggles, and kitties purring away on my shoulder.
This entry was posted in author, fantasy, happiness, life's journey, success, writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Taming Reality

  1. Paul Davis says:

    “For my part I consider that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is a woman, and if you wish to keep her under it is necessary to beat and ill-use her; and it is seen that she allows herself to be mastered by the adventurous rather than by those who go to work more coldly. She is, therefore, always, woman-like, a lover of young men, because they are less cautious, more violent, and with more audacity command her.” -Niccolo Machiavelli

    I know, it’s sexist, but any time I’m trying to risk something, that’s what gets me through. I just try to push the words. Usually I have one or two plot points off in the distance, and everything I write is how to get there. With the setting created, you already have the obstacles, it’s just whether or not your characters go through them. I strangely approach my writing very similar to my GMing.

    Anyway, keep at it. Keep your chin up. Keep your fingers moving. If you have your world, your ideas, and your love (and a computer for epublishing), nothing can stop you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s