Rats

There was a recent announcement of a forthcoming project that looks very cool indeed. I'm going to buy it, and I'm very much looking forward to enjoying it when it becomes available.

But I'm bummed. Because I really, really wanted to be directly involved with this project.

I apologize for being coy about this. I have a lot of respect and admiration for the folks putting this together--I'm a fan, in fact--and I don't want my disappointment to be misconstrued as a casting of shade upon it, nor upon the good and talented people at its helm and among its visionaries. I wish them all the great success they deserve, and more. This looks to be fantastic.

That's why I wanted to be a part of it.

The project is a sequel to an earlier work o' wonder, and I wanted to be in with the In Crown on that one, too. But I chalked that up to its producers just not being sufficiently aware of my work to invite me in. It happens, and it's just the way it is, baby. We've corresponded quite a bit since then, so I figured that lack of familiarity would no longer be a factor next time. If there was a next time.

Yeah, there was a next time. I read about it after it was a fait accompli. I can't even tell you how down on myself I've felt since then.

I'm thin-skinned and overreacting. That is absolutely true. A collaborative creation allows only a finite number of participants. Musical chairs. Hell, I know this from the other side of the dynamic, as my radio co-host Dana and I have certainly had to omit interested and qualified recording artists from our This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio compilation CDs. At some point, there is simply no more room.

I get all of this. But it doesn't help me feel better about it.

I'm sorry, and I don't mean to whine. I'm not gnashing my teeth and vowing never to write again. No garments were rent in the making of this blog post. But my process for dealing with this prompts a need to vent a little. Writing requires some level of self-confidence. I still believe in my work. 

I just question whether there's much of an audience for it. 

I'll get over it. And I'll keep writing, I guess. I've been writing a book that may never be published, maintaining a daily blog that relatively few people read. The work continues. Even if I'm not getting anywhere with it. I'm still doing it. 

I don't know how to do anything else.