“I Hate You So Much Right Now” by Kelis came to mind.
I reached for the Mars Bar and ripped it open with my teeth. I took a bite and chewed as fast as I could, not even tasting the food. My phone beeped and I looked down at it. It was a message from my author page on Facebook. I opened the app and looked at the message.
I can’t wait for your next book!
Just seven little words, and yet they had the power to strike terror into me. And they were really the last thing I needed to read, right now. I started scrolling through my other messages. I hadn’t responded to any of them; seeing messages from readers asking for my next book usually struck terror into my heart and I found it was always better to ignore them. Denial can be a very powerful weapon against the harsh glare of reality. Denial is like sticking your finger into the dyke. It will help momentarily, it will keep the water back, but soon it will blow. And blow it always does. It had certainly all blown up on me. I mean, look at me—in a strange town, plagiarizing some letters, in a hotel room, alone, not having sex . . .
I took another bite of the tasteless lump of chocolaty sugar and chewed.
There was another reason I ignored these messages, too. I still couldn’t get used to total strangers reaching out to me, wanting to know me and hear from me. I hadn’t had many friends, growing up; I’d never stayed in one place long enough to make any, I suppose. And now, as an adult, I guess I’d never really honed the skills needed to make any . . . and so I hadn’t. I had acquaintances, sure. But not that one “ride or die” that everyone seems to have, that everyone rubs in your face on social media.
I continued to scroll through the messages on my page. They were making the knot in my stomach tangle even more, each one telling me why they loved my book and how much they were looking forward to my next one and . . .
HATED IT!
“What?” I sat up and read the message.
I usually never write to authors, but I had to write to you to tell you THAT I HATED YOUR BOOK!! WORST BOOK EVER WRITTEN. DON’T QUIT YOUR DAY JOB!!!
“Wow, wow, wow!” I whispered to myself. What on earth had I done to warrant so many capital letters, not to mention all those exclamation marks? I continued this self-destructive scroll. God, I had no idea there were so many messages. So many expectant readers. My insides started to crawl as I thought about my looming deadline, my agent’s smug face, her total belief that I was going to fail, and I also wondered if everyone would hate my next book. What if I was just another one-hit wonder? A “Ninety-Nine Red Balloons,” an “Ice Ice Baby,” an “I’m Too Sexy For My Shirt” . . . You know who else was too sexy for his shirt? No. Stop, Becca. Just stop this!Stop, calibrate and listen!
“Shit!” I climbed off the bed. I was here to write and save my sinking career, not have almost-sex with people who clearly didn’t want to have almost-sex with me and get lost down the rabbit hole of bad reviews and . . .I just couldn’t get distracted right now.
I walked over to my computer with a renewed sense of (panicky) purpose. Screw Mike! Well, notscrewhim, screw him. That hadn’t happened. Clearly! Or I wouldn’t be alone, stuffing my face with calories and plagiarizing on a pink beanbag. Screw him and screw that naysayer with all his exclamation marks.
I put my fingers on my keyboard and forced myself to type.
