- I've been too tired
- I've had a lot of illness/personal issues
- I'm too busy with social things to read
And then I thought about the fact that I'm 6+ months overdue on getting the second book in my series completed, and yet another list of "reasons" was readily waiting:
- I've been too tired after work
- Too many other ideas for books are popping into my head to focus
- Writer's block on any of the ideas for books I'm working on
- I haven't been inspired to write
- I've been dealing with illness/personal issues
Then some news came today that made me really stop and think.
Vince Flynn died. After two years, Vince lost his battle with aggressive prostate cancer. Having worked at Barnes & Noble, we heard the first news of his cancer and eventually saw the affects it had on his work. Many customers would demand to know why Flynn's latest book hadn't come out yet... it always came out in October and it's November-almost-December. Then we had the sad job of telling the impatient customer why his/her book was delayed until January or even February, because his cancer treatments made it hard for him to get his book out and do the release touring he normally would. Informed, and slightly ashamed, the customer would nod and walk away. Sadly, we book lovers and fans are left with the dozen or so Mitch Rapp books Flynn was able to complete, the last 2 while he was battling cancer, and won't be enthralled by more of Mitch's kickass adventures.
It's even more saddening because he was a local author. Being a native Minnesotan myself, it was exciting to see a "local boy done good". It gave me a glimmer of hope knowing that he was one of the few Bestselling authors from the state (perhaps it could happen to me!!) He would often visit local bookstores on tours and signings, and even as a *gasp* real person! My favorite story about Flynn was told to me by a customer at Barnes & Noble (whether it actually happened is still up for debate, but who cares, it's a cute story). I worked at the Eden Prairie store, and in a neighboring suburb, Edina, was another B&N. Said customer was looking for books like Flynn's, since he had read all the ones that were out at the time. We got to talking about similar authors, when the man said that his son got to meet Flynn. Intrigued, I urged the man to tell me the tale. Apparently, the man's son worked at the Edina location and was shelving books in the fiction section--in the F's and was shelving Flynn's books. The son started talking to himself while shelving and was making some snide remarks about Flynn's books and how they were "formulated" and "were the same thing with a different cover". Then behind his shoulder a man says, "Well, I don't think they're all that bad." The boy turned around and there stood the man himself. Vince Flynn. Flabbergasted and embarrassed, the boy couldn't really respond, but Flynn struck up a conversation with the son and they talked about books for almost half an hour.
How classy is that?
Now, my perspective I mentioned before.
My lists of reasons excuses for not reading more and writing review blogs, or even working more diligently on my own books, stared me hard in the face this afternoon as I digested the news of Flynn's passing. The man had cancer, an aggressive disease that makes it hard to function on a merely surviving level, let alone continue writing books and doing any sort of publicity for them. I know from watching cancer take its toll on my mom over a < 2 year period, finally taking her from us all too soon. And in spite of the fact he had a terminal disease, he continued to write and work and do what he loved to do to what I suspect were his last days.
So what excuse do I have? I've been having some stomach issues? Big deal. My job is really stressful and I'm so tired when I get home. Meh. My anxiety has started to rear its ugly head again? Wah. Yes, some of the things I've had to deal with are serious and should be addressed (health and mental issues are a must), but everything else are just excuses and lame rationale to make myself feel better. Writing is hard. If it wasn't, everyone would do it. Somewhere along the way I lost sight of why I started writing in the first place, and certainly lost the determination to complete a book. My first full length novel I completed in one year... the same year I lost my mom.
Seriously. What's my excuse now?
I here pledge to make a more solid effort to write more each day, to work a little bit each night on my WIP; even if I'm tired from work or not really feeling the best. As long as I get something done.
It's the least I can do.
