In Which I Switch to Imposter Syndrome Mode

Blogging about my sexcapades is bringing me down.

Oh, internet. You all sure seemed to be enjoying it. My blog views are up, but my my spirits are not.

Going back to these times in my life is a reminder of where I've come from. Now, I'm a happily married woman, in the most complete and satisfying relationship of my life.

It only took me until my late 30's to find him.

Thanks, universe.

I say that with some sarcasm, because why couldn't it have been earlier? I could have avoided so much pain (and literally avoided getting peed on.)

Hubs doesn't ~~care about~~ mind my sexy blog posts. That said, he doesn't want to read them.

He had a hard enough time with my novel. It's heavily inspired by true events, and some of that was hard for him as a reader. Mom just finished it as well. All she's said is that she's "still processing it."

He still 100% supports my writing and my story, in the way that I've told it.

About 1/3 of my queries are back.

1 partial request

18 rejections

and the partial turned into a rejection.

So, I'm over here full of imposter syndrome, wondering if my book is worthy of even hybrid publication.

But, guys. I think it is. Deep down.

I'll be starting my MFA program at Spalding next month. Think I can get my head out of my ass enough to dive in and learn and exude confidence?

I'll be damned if I can't do the first two.

What keeps you going when you feel like a failure?

Comments

Jud Was Right: Karen DID NOT damage her Lexus on the Traverse - A Garage Story

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I tend to bury the lead, so let me say this up front: I won't get to any of it in this post, but by 12:24:22am on January 29, 2022, John O'Keefe had arrived at 34 Fairview, gone into the house, been incapacitated, and had been dragged down the two short flights of stairs down to the basement, and up the stairs to and through the bulkhead door. Yes. All of this happened by 12:24:22am. And here's how I started my research this week to figure it out: When I decided to look at timeline, I didn't think I'd spend all my free time in an entire DAY focusing on the short time frame of 12:11am - 12:21:09. I wanted to go "back to the start" (shoutout to Coldplay!) and figure out what the time discrepancy was really all about. I started with steps: Hyde (report) 12:11:09 - 12:21:09 170 steps 326 feet Guarino (testimony) 12:11:09 – 12:21:05 170 steps 326 feet Whiffin (report) ...

fetal friday?

I know that I left everyone hanging yesterday. You know, when I went to pee on that stick. (That was mean of me. Not the peeing, but the leaving hanging.) Well, I think the big reveal is best expressed in letter form. Deep breath. Here goes. dear unborn baby daughter son or daughter, I take it back. I take back everything I said about not wanting kids. I was just scaredspice, and the slightest bit selfish, and maybe I had a giant fear of commitment. But, three positive test results in the last eighteen hours seem to say that you actually are in there, getting all comfy. I guess you'll probably be here in mid-December. I never thought about having a Christmas baby. (You've really put a wrench in my whole taking-maternity-leave-during-the-NCAA-tournament plan, but that's okay. At least it's basketball season. Don't tell Daddy yet, but you are going to cheer for the Indiana Hoosiers.) Speaking of Daddy, I take back all the mean things I've ever sa...

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