There is a little mouse who lives in the back of my head. Not many people know this. For arguments sake, let’s call him Herman.
Most of the time, Herman is a nice little mouse. He’s quiet, considerate, and doesn’t mistake my brain for cheese.
The problem is, though, is that Herman is a rare species called a self – doubt mouse. And on occasion, he decides to start nibbling away at my mind. Maybe my mental state smells of cheddar or something.
All I really know is that Herman decided to start chewing on my grey matter this week, and as a result I’ve been getting a bit twitchy. A big factor in this is that I haven’t had a sale in about a week, and I’ve watched both my books steadily slip down the rankings. I shouldn’t really panic, because this has happened to me before, but conning off the high of the free book promo and literally watching my sales flatline really messes with my confidence.
I need to stick to my plans, this I know, but in my panic I start to think stupid thoughts. Thoughts like “maybe I should give up.”
I’m not going to. But at two in the morning when insomnia is screwing with you and Herman is using your psyche for bedding material, it’s amazing what your brain says to you.