Read to the End

The Pains of Success

November 6th

My Sweet Lizzy Love,

I miss you so much it hurts. And the kids, man, my heart aches not seeing their little faces smiling up at me! You're on my mind constantly and I long for you to be with me again.

This week has been one I'll never forget. It's felt like a year wrapped in a week, wrapped in forever—not sure if that's a good or bad thing. It's just a thing, and that may be all right. I barely even know where I am right now. I think I'm in Dallas, but maybe that was yesterday. :)

Anyway, I had my first round of interviews today.

So so intimidating!

My heart was pounding the whole time—a combination of excitement and utter dread. It was almost impossible for me respond with more than one syllable. You know how I get: I have these thoughts in my head, but I just can't get them to escape my mouth.

They asked me where I got inspiration for the book. After a few painful moments of stammering, I managed to spit out that ideas just kind of come to me.

Seriously, that's all I said. The woman stared at me for a moment unsure of where to take the interview next. Then I said something like, "I know, it's a boring answer."

The rest of the interviews went about the same. Pretty horrible, huh? They asked me things like, "How does it feel having your first novel published?" or "Has it always been your dream to be a published author?" I did my best to respond, but once again, my ideas came out as fragmented nuggets of idiocy. You would have known exactly what to say. You've always been able to voice my thoughts better than I can.

Anyway, I wake up every day without really waking. I feel like I'm experiencing an hallucination. As if at any moment someone will tap on my shoulder, and I'll wake up in the library—plot points scattered around; my computer curser blinking out taunts, daring me to write a word. Just one word.

And that petrifies me!

I really can't believe I'm a published novelist. None of this is actually real, is it?

It would be so much better though if you were here. It just feels like something is missing.

Well, Sam is knocking on the hotel door. Who knew an agent could be so needy! I will write to you the next time I have a moment.

Love,

Nathaniel

November 10th

Hey Lizzy,

I've got a confession. I know you always tell me not to look at online comments or read what critics say, but I did. I just wanted to see how people were responding to the story. But it was a huge mistake! Sure, there were a lot of good things written about my book, but all I can replay in my head are the negative reviews.

One guy with the handle NoobKiller wrote, and I'm quoting word-for-word, "Nathaniel Thayer writes like hes scarred of the world. His 'book' is full of so many clichés, he should just tatto the words 'walking cliché' on his forehead. It would save us alltime. Or he could just crawl in a hole and dissappear."

First of all, yes, I am scared of the world, but my story is a horror story. It's supposed to spotlight our darkest fears and give us a place to pack them away. If my writing somehow exposes my own dread, then I'm okay with that. And second off, well, I don't know how to rebut the cliché thing. Maybe I am a big ol' cliché. If that's the case, I haven't figured out a way to fix it. And thirdly, if a troll is going to critique someone's writing, it needs to at least use spell check. Yes, I referred to a troll as it.