(no subject)

Sudden realization that I don't actually believe the story where I work really hard as a writer my whole life and nothing comes of it and I just get increasingly pathetic. Not anymore.

I pretty much always write stuff that's very personal, more personal than I intended, but in the story I just finished the young witch's aunt tells her "It will come back to you, as long as you're faithful to yourself and faithful to your craft," and... maybe that's about where I'm at right now. Which doesn't necessarily make it easier to deal with the slings and arrows of a publishing contract, but certainly fortifies one against them.

(Thanks, therapy!)