I recently finished my manuscript and for about a day I thought I was going to become an author. Why? Well because I had been in contact with a publishing company for a while and they had called to tell me that my manuscript had been accepted. I was so excited, I thought I was on top of the world although in the back of my mind I kept thinking this feels like a dream don’t get too excited. Well that didn’t work.
I wrote to my friends on facebook and of course people started liking and commenting on my post pretty quickly, mostly congratulating me which made me feel great and I must admit, inflated my ego quite a bit. I kept getting on facebook to see how many other people had heard of the news and then it happened. I got home and checked out their agreement and I felt like my world had shattered.
This company wanted me to pay them for the next 10 months totaling an amount of about 3000 dollars. Really? I mean I don’t know much about how the publishing industry works but I had always heard that if a company is asking you to pay them that you should just walk away. I felt like I was emotionally invested and for a few hours I thought that I would still go ahead with the deal. It is my money and I really want to get published plus I had made the announcement on facebook and I was freaking embarrassed!! I didn’t want to go back and say “Hey, hehehe funny thing happened but it was a false alarm.” So I figured I had to go on with the agreement. It didn’t last though which was a good thing. I immediately thought well hey if I told these people I was going to get published then I am just going to have to do just that!
I am now thinking of either self publishing or looking for literary agents. Any suggestions?
I think that if I hadn’t been so emotionally invested and excited I would have realized that if this company wanted me to cough up money in the first place it probably wasn’t the best idea. These people really know how to play on your emotions though. First of all I had always heard that getting published was so damn hard so when the road seemed to be so easy and smooth for me I just figured that it was the universe doing it for me. It didn’t help that the agent was telling me that my work was one of the best, that the board loved it and that everyone agreed that I would make a lot of money off my book. He also told me, after I voiced my hesitance because of the money, that even if I didn’t publish with them that he hoped I did publish because I would do very well.
I am not good at hiding my emotions but I am good at not wanting to be vulnerable so when someone praises you like that you can’t help but feel good about yourself and believe them and then maybe they can bend you into their own will. Self publishing intrigues me but it also scares me. It is a lot of research and then the marketing is something that troubles me a bit but sometimes to get to where you want to be or do you have to focus and push your emotions and feelings aside.
So why do we let our emotions get the best of us when we get that gnawing feeling in the pit of our stomach?
Have you ever been told a story that haunted you long after it was told? Not the kind of story with ghosts and witches but the kind of story that just left you….wondering…thinking if you’d ever find out what happened?
My dad had a lot of things happen to him throughout his life. We often wondered how he got to be the age that he is, well and alive. He got into several accidents… he was in a bike accident causing him to fall into a bush of thorns, he was in a horrible car accident where he hit a cow. The most memorable thing for me was when he dove into a empty pool head first. No he isn’t stupid… he had just assumed the pool would have water in it. He and his friends always asked permission to use the pool but that day he was asking permission and running toward it at the same time. He wasn’t looking straight ahead.. he was looking at the man who let them use it so by the time he turned it was too late. He only ended up with a few scrapes on his forearms and I think a broken wrist. I know! Someone clearly wants him to live for a long time.
So as the story goes my dad was on business in Norway and was in a club in Edinburgh. He decided to leave the club because everyone around him was drunk and he has never been much of a drinker so he went out for a walk. I think he was heading back to where he was staying when he stumbled upon a fellow Spaniard (lets call him Pablo) who asked him what he was doing. My dad told him he was heading back home but Pablo convinced him to go back to the club. Pablo said he had some friends that he wanted my dad to meet but once they got back to the club they wouldn’t let my dad back in. My dad was told he had to pay an entrance fee even though he already had his wrist stamped from when he went in the first time. When my dad refused that’s when the shit hit the fan. Pablo stepped in to defend my father and the doorman brought out his goons. The doorman punched my dad and my dad fell to the floor bleeding. Pablo pulled out a knife from his pocket and put himself in between my dad and the goons and told my dad to get a taxi and he would soon follow. My dad didn’t want to leave him but Pablo insisted so my dad got into a taxi but he had the driver go around and around the same block with no luck. My dad never saw Pablo again and often wonders what happened to him. He is also riddled with guilt but there was nothing he could have done, he even tried contacting the Spanish Embassy but no one could help him.
I know my dad considers Pablo to be his guardian angel… at least for that night.
So why do some stories haunt us more than any scary story we’ve heard? Is it because there was nothing that could be done?
So I have been dreading this post a bit because it means I have to be quite vulnerable and get personal but it needs to be done so here goes…
Last week I had a family issue. I live with my sister and until recently we ate the same food and she would mostly cook but she would write out my half of the grocery money and because I make less than her and need to make car payments it started to stress me out so we decided to buy our own food. On Thanksgiving we were able to share the leftovers and my sister mentioned making something with the leftovers. I assumed that I would be able to partake but she wasn’t to crazy about it and I understood I really just hadn’t realized. What caused the issue was when I impulsively drank something she had made for friends visiting the next day. I knew it was wrong but in the moment I didn’t even think about it. I just wanted to drink something sweet and that was what was there. I am not impulsive at all in life but when it comes to food or something sweet I stop thinking and just act!
It became this whole thing because my sister vented with my mother about what I had done and my mom called me and told me about it. I hadn’t realized that it was going to blow up and I felt ambushed and very guilty because I realized that I had been very selfish. So this is finally the part when you guys finally see that the word weirdo on my title fits me….. When I realize something about myself that I don’t like I get very sensitive and guilty and I cry. Ugh… I hate crying because I want to be tough. I like to make people think that I don’t care and vulnerability and emotions are extremely difficult for me.
I have friends who cry with no fear when they are in a stressful situation. I cant do that and if I feel like I might start to show emotion in front of anyone I remove myself as fast as I can or I pretend to be tough. When I get stressed and upset I cuss like crazy so when my parents ask me to open up after I already feel guilty I remove myself from it because that means they will see me at my most vulnerable and I cant handle that. I realize that I can be selfish when it comes to my emotions but it is very difficult for me to open up face to face. The written word definitely makes me feel more relaxed and helps me open up more.
So when our impulses affect others is that portrayed as selfishness or does selfishness have nothing to do with our impulses?