Beating Blue Monday

Normally I don't get too bothered by the phenomenon of "Blue Monday", but this year was different.  Battling the 'Flu from hell had brought me to a low point where I had no energy to do anything but brood.

My mood wasn't helped by a rash of agents and editors proudly announcing on Twitter their new clients and acquisitions.  It was particularly bitter reading enthusiastic announcements from an agent who had just said she didn't want to see more of my novel.

On top of that I was reading posts from some of my target agents, talking about how much they loved reading dark and twisted books.  My heart sank.  This is something I never write, or have any desire to read either.  So this was my already-small list of agents shrinking even more.  Pile on top of the Blues the cold weather, and you have the recipe for a very grumpy me.

I'm naturally optimistic and hopeful, qualities any writer seeking publication needs in spades.  But I have to say that, at the start of January, the publishing bastion had never seemed more impossible to breach.

So how to lift myself out of the gloomy mood?  The only way that works for me is by getting deeply involved in my writing again.  By reaffirming my commitment to my stories, by rekindling my passion for the types of tales I love to tell.  So I started on the task of editing my recent rewrite of my novel Starfire.  I lost myself in the world of a trading ship captain searching for her missing cousin.

I also pulled back from reading internet advice from publishers and agents.  Because advice about submissions reduces a writer's book to a simple formula.  A pitch should tell us who and what the book is about, what the hook is, what the peril is.  All in one sentence.  A rigid formula, designed to weed out submissions with the minimum of effort.

The only way to fight this brutalism is to get lost in my own voice, to get excited all over again by reading Ria's story.  So my formula for beating Blue Monday is simple.  Turn your back on the publishing industry's endless advice and go write.  Go write in your own authentic voice, and say what you need to say.  Nurture you, and your storytelling gift.  Because nobody else will do that.