Bollocks

My involvement in a book deal I’d been working on for around two years ended in failure yesterday. I can’t talk about specifics as I’m under NDA, but, obviously, it’s a difficult turn.

In a way, I feel relieved; it had become obvious something wasn’t right with the process, and the resolution means I can move on, at least to a degree.

The editor involved wants to “continue to work” with me, so there is a giant upside, but after so much negotiation, conference-calling, badgering and sample-writing, that this has fallen through hasn’t yet sunk in. While a weight’s been lifted, there’s a numbness it’d be easy to succumb to. I see now why so many aspiring novelists remain just that.

I’m exhausted for every reason. We’re going on holiday next week for the first time in nearly four years. I have to stop thinking about this stuff.

But I will not stop. This is not supposed to be easy. If I stop, I lose. I will not stop.