by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner
Sometimes, I feel like I should just lie in my bed, twiddle my thumbs and wait to die. I’m old and I’ve wasted way too much of my life grieving over a dumb zine in Seoul. But every time I get into this mood, I immediately think, “Well, once more unto the breach.”
I hope that the heroine I’ve come up with is as interesting as Lisbeth Salander.
It’s just not my nature to give up, even though that’s exactly what I should probably do — give the fuck up.
So, I’m going to keep going with this novel as well as a back up novel. All I can say in my defense is I’m an eccentric and, as such, I willing to throw myself into something which objectively will never happen successfully — querying my first novel.
But I just refuse to self-publish, no matter what. I would rather fail on a spectacular level than self-publish because to me self-publishing is a huge co-out. I need and crave the validation of a third party — in this case a literary agent — so I can turn to people who have told me I suck as a writer all these years.
I can turn to them and tell them to fuck off.
I can prove them wrong.
So, I keep moving forward.
