Noticing the seasons changing gets to me if I sit and think about it for too long.
I’m still in this process right now of submitting to publication after publication, all the while working hard at getting my book to a place where I feel right releasing it. But while I feel like I’m plugging away pretty steadily, my work still exists in this sort of unproven state. The only following I have is on Instagram, and that isn’t even my best work yet. A lot of the pieces I’m really proud of are in the draft of the poetry collection, and only a literal handful of people have seen that so far.
Long story short, it’s really easy to feel like I’m not making headway sometimes, if I sit around and let myself feel sorry about it.
I think that’s pretty natural, though – especially for writers out there that haven’t really been recognized yet, or expanded their platform beyond what a social media network can offer. It’s an accomplishment to have any kind of following, I guess – especially in a severely over-saturated environment – but I’m trying to find a place where this starts to feel more real to me.