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I don't suffer from a lack of confidence normally. I tend to know what I'm good at and what I'm okay at and what I'm bad at, and I rejoice in that knowledge because knowing that I am just generally not good at playing video games keeps me from starting one up, getting 20 minutes in, and failing repeatedly on something that takes other people 10 seconds to do. And this is all well and good.
But the last few months, man... I have churned out a *lot* of words of fiction this year. I know I have. I've flooded smallish fandoms with more fics than they usually see. I've written in tons and tons of tiny fandoms and I've tested the waters of some larger ones. I got over the road blocks that I felt held me back from writing what I wanted to write, and I became kind of a "writing machine" because of it which, to a point, I take as a compliment. But I think I've actually had so much output that no one even really stops to look at my work anymore.
I berate myself for feeling like I deserve any attention as a writer because I know where I'm good there. Short fluff pieces with some wit and snark that end on a punchline are my bread and butter. Likewise, I will happily write that intense kink that no one else will just because I'm into it. But now I have to wonder if I'm building up my own abilities in my head with regards to writing because I'm just getting nothing in the way of comments and kudos and all of those other reader response things except on drabbles.
I can rationalize it all in my head that it's a busy time of year, that people are just acidentally overlooking my work *because* I post so much, that I need to be posting links in comms, etc. but it doesn't stop the irrational part of me from asking, "Do I just suck that much and no one is telling me?"
Yuletide is about to post. I wrote a lot for it. Since the first week of it is all anon, I'll see what kind of responses I get for that. Yuletide might be Cult-of-Nice heavy, but it'll be a better venue for feedback than trying to beg people to tell me what they thought of that Nase/Akari-ish fic I wrote.
It's nearly 2am and I am doped up on painkillers because I strained some muscle in my back and I am in a bad mood about a lot of things (most of them somehow related to my washine machine breaking and flooding my apartmnt), so please take this with salt and call (or don't call) me in the morning.
But the last few months, man... I have churned out a *lot* of words of fiction this year. I know I have. I've flooded smallish fandoms with more fics than they usually see. I've written in tons and tons of tiny fandoms and I've tested the waters of some larger ones. I got over the road blocks that I felt held me back from writing what I wanted to write, and I became kind of a "writing machine" because of it which, to a point, I take as a compliment. But I think I've actually had so much output that no one even really stops to look at my work anymore.
I berate myself for feeling like I deserve any attention as a writer because I know where I'm good there. Short fluff pieces with some wit and snark that end on a punchline are my bread and butter. Likewise, I will happily write that intense kink that no one else will just because I'm into it. But now I have to wonder if I'm building up my own abilities in my head with regards to writing because I'm just getting nothing in the way of comments and kudos and all of those other reader response things except on drabbles.
I can rationalize it all in my head that it's a busy time of year, that people are just acidentally overlooking my work *because* I post so much, that I need to be posting links in comms, etc. but it doesn't stop the irrational part of me from asking, "Do I just suck that much and no one is telling me?"
Yuletide is about to post. I wrote a lot for it. Since the first week of it is all anon, I'll see what kind of responses I get for that. Yuletide might be Cult-of-Nice heavy, but it'll be a better venue for feedback than trying to beg people to tell me what they thought of that Nase/Akari-ish fic I wrote.
It's nearly 2am and I am doped up on painkillers because I strained some muscle in my back and I am in a bad mood about a lot of things (most of them somehow related to my washine machine breaking and flooding my apartmnt), so please take this with salt and call (or don't call) me in the morning.