Writing is like most other jobs except the work is so tied to your sense of self, it can turn into an emotional roller coaster. One minute you’re euphoric; the next you’re a trainwreck. You spend hours, weeks, and years writing a book, and then move onto the publishing and promotion phase. The ups and downs during writing are a mere microcosm of the unpredictability experienced after.

I thought about this last night while fighting another round of insomnia. Yesterday, I received my first two agent rejections and the results came out for an international awards contest I really hoped to win. Nope, my name appeared nowhere. I didn’t feel terribly affected at the time; after all, agents get hundreds of queries per week and an international contest involves zillions of entries worldwide. It’s akin to entering the lottery, knowing your chances are slim but hoping just the same, and feeling that crash when your numbers don’t come up.

Meanwhile, a week ago, I did one of my best interviews yet with two terrific hosts on Sci Fi Saturday Night and was euphoric for days. This month alone, I’ve been featured in several online magazines (UrbanLit, Uncaged, Jean the Book Nerd); I’ve been interviewed on two video podcasts (Pen for Hire, She Blurbs), and two audio shows (Sci Fi Saturday Night and Douglas Coleman in Las Vegas). I received some wonderful reviews, met fantastic authors and media folks in our monthly publicity meeting, and participated in a lively publishing panel with Toronto’s East End Writers. Fantastic! All of it.

And I’m writing. I submitted three reviews this month and am three-quarters of the way through writing the first draft of a new romantic suspense novel. I’m marketing four Hollystone Mysteries and pitching a small town romantic suspense novel. With all that juggling, it’s no wonder I’m battling tendonitis: the result of too much repetitive motion AKA typing and clicking.

My shoulder and bicep is screaming “Take a break and find some balance!”

“But this is what I do!” I scream back. “Can’t stop now.”

Dictation is not an option. I’m a visual writer. I need to see those words on the page and mess with them. Last night I thought about other jobs I could do that don’t involve a computer. Psychic tarot card reader? Workshop host? I remember Milton screaming at God when he lost his sight after too many candle lit nights. God’s reply involved the word “patience.” Perhaps, that’s what I’m missing—the patience to get up and walk away and stretch and REST. When my dog pushes my fingers off the keyboard with her nose, I need to listen.

Still, all I need is one “send me more of your manuscript” and I’ll be ecstatic again.

Do you ride an emotional roller coaster? Tell me about it.