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Posted by lycan librarian in Uncategorized.

        We ‘ve all heard about Thomas Kincaid doing himself in (perhaps accidentally as reported) with vodka and Valium. I must say, having just discovered this magical combination, that it’s a wonderful and very numbing concoction that allows cares to melt completely away. Why a successful recognized artist like Kincaid would need numbing is beyond me, but it’s a terrific diversion for someone like me who sits waiting, waiting, waiting for an agent to take me on — or a job offer in the nine-to-five world where I have never quite fit in. February will mark two years that I have been looking — submitting resumes weekly but getting a mere handful of interviews, and no calls back. Perhaps I don’t realize it, but am actually somehow blocking my success in that area since I truly want to write full-time.
I should be on top of the world right now. I had an agency request a six-week exclusive on one of my books. Two months later they reported a positive response and said it was going on to another reader. That was October 10 and I am still waiting for the second opinion. I have another agency looking at it, too, and their response is due any day now. But they are in NYC so who knows how long Hurricane Sandy will have set them back. These are reasons for hope, so perhaps I’m depressed because I’m in between books right now, having just finishing my latest. It’s hard for me to just live this life and not have a book to obsess me.
I work part-time at a small local paper and they sent the staff to a life coach so we could do an article on our experiences with her. She spoke about symbolic creatures — deceitful monkeys that climb on our shoulders and sabotage our success with their negative talk. If we listen, we fall. If we can ignore them, we can climb over them and crush them with the heels of our boots. She said their voices grow stronger the closer we get to our goals, so I am trying to keep those thoughts foremost in my mind and convince my brain that I am very close to success. Another statement I cling to until my fingers bleed is “Success is doing what you say you are going to do.” I say I am going to write and finish novels. And I do. That makes me, to some degree, a success. I’m a great success to my dogs. I get them fed every day. I take them out for walks and romps in all weather, and I provide them with their every wish and whim. As a matter of fact, I will finish this up and stumble outside with them for a while. It’s nice being a hero to someone.
But why am I so stressed? This is a dream life compared to those of people in many other parts of the world. I manage to pay my bills each month with my assortment of creative ways to make money. I lack for nothing, being sheltered, fed, clothed and entertained. But the monkeys on my shoulder keep scaring me about not having anything for retirement. Maybe I never will. I’ll be a greeter or hostess or a freelance writer forever. Let’s hope dementia sets in just enough for me to be one of those incessantly happy little ladies who are joyous for the experience of seeing every person whose path they cross.

If any of you have experience with Valium and vodka, please let me know so we can share war stories. I could use some contact with someone who understands what I’m going through.



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