Spent some time last weekend having an existential crisis. It was minute, profound and petty. But I think that most people living in this particular instant of existence should be going through the same thing, on some level. People are suffering everyday, just now all of us are extremely aware of it because it is affecting our lives. And it should.
That we can plough onward, or try to, is a blessing. I am not encapsulated in the present moment, because I myself am not experiencing direct suffering. This, too, is a blessing.
Note: I do not recommend reading N.K. Jemisin’s Broken Earth series at during the pandemic. As brilliant as it is, it’s not the time to read such a gnarly and painful series… (Think geo-thermal-dynamical magic meets Beloved…) Had to finish the series to find hope again.
This weekend, I reread by manuscript, just to reengage myself with the importance of it. (Eh, existential crisis). I came to the conclusion that I wrote it for “my little wanderer”. You know who you are. It was always in the back of my mind, but it fully came to light last weekend.
Now, I’m polishing my query and synopsis for the fiftieth time. I’m finding agents on MSWishlist, and I’m actually going to submit my manuscript.
Moving forward from that, I’m going to start working on my hopeful, less morally murky book, in case Ari’s too dark for the current mood of the country after the pandemic.
