The Blogtastic Blogfest That Is Getmeoutofthis.net!

I guess I should write all this out, just so it’s written out. Just to examine it. We’ll return to normal stupid blogging shortly. Maybe it’ll be about Modern Warfare 2! Nobody is writing about that, right?

It’s been awhile, but on last Tuesday, I had a little bit of a breakdown. It wasn’t long, because I had things to do that required me to, you know, keep face, but it certainly rippled from there.

So Tuesday night is the night of the writing workshop. I wrote a story called “Transitional Conflict.” You can guess the kind of subject matter with a title like that, I’m sure. Anyway, I though the story turned out pretty well, if I was a bit minimal, and I was really interested in finding out what everyone had to say.
We get to my story, and it suddenly becomes so awkward in the room. Probably not to anyone but me. But I couldn’t look at anyone. Everyone was close to who my main character was, but also so far off, and it sort of pained me to hear them talk about it. I mean, from a writer’s perspective, it was useful. This was great feedback. But it just really bothered me.

As I walked to the car afterwards, I found myself getting really angry, and fairly upset that people couldn’t understand that character. I also quickly became mad at myself for not being able to express my own issues in this character. If I couldn’t even use all my writing talents to get across this struggle, and make it clear who this person is without just having them knock people over the head with it, what chance did I have of making that happen in real life? What were the chances of me being able to just be me?
Soon, this mixed with frustration that I was letting feedback on writing get to me emotionally. Sure, it was an emotionally charged story, but dammit, I’m a fucking professional. Whatever I need up doing, at this point, it seems pretty clear it will involve writing in some way. I’m more professional than to cry about how my story was misinterpreted, even though, admittedly, it wasn’t just that.

I eventually broke down, and I made a phone call that went badly, and I eventually just bottled it up as I normally do and got back to work.
It’s just been a long time since I got so upset about these sorts of things. I suppose that’s a good sign. I’m doing better, of course. But it’s not solved, and I know that. I’ve not found a solution. I just… I feel like I have my life together, and something like this happens, and then I feel like I’ve done nothing, accomplished nothing… what have I been working for, you know?
And sometimes, I just honestly don’t know.