Ambition

When thinking and writing about my experience in the creative realm in the last three years, I have sometimes used the words “damaged my spirit.” When I say “used the words” I mean that they have been recurring thoughts, or thoughts I try to douse out the embers of with other thoughts, sometimes successfully, other times not.

What I mean is: I have felt a little metaphorically bruised, a little dinged up. The termination of my agent last year, though it was my choice, was difficult—it introduced more big doubt about what I’m doing and why. As a woman nearing 50 I’m already deep in some other existential shit but the experiences I’ve had in the publishing world have introduced a whole other road of existential travels that at times feels important to contemplate, and at other times, exhausting and pointless.

What’s wild is that I think it would have been necessary to come to all the questions I’ve collected in the past three years, but I’d just never imagined that the questions would play out the way they have.