Letting Go

Or: Moving on After Debut

Hello again!

It has now been over a month since House of the Beast was released in the US! I’ve been relatively absent from social media, in large part because I was busy dealing with the emotional ups and downs of debuting, and spending much of my time relearning an important skill: letting go.

Letting go was something I did frequently as a freelance comic book artist. I basically never looked at my completed projects—not even to flip through my artist copies. I didn’t want to see whatever mistakes I had made while rushing under deadline, and anyway, there was always other work to do. The stories weren’t mine, so I found it much easier to be impersonal. Once the work was done, I detached myself, and set it aside to make room for the next thing.

House of the Beast was quite difficult to let go of. This book had meant something to me in a way that none of my previous projects ever had. It was my story, and I really, really hoped people would like it. Of course, when you are emotionally invested in something, that’s when the anxiety sets in. When HOTB hit the Sunday Times and USA Today bestseller lists, my happiness was mostly overshadowed by a horrible sense of dread. People had bought my book, which meant there was now an opportunity for me to disappoint them! Yippee!

That was obviously an extremely unhealthy and pessimistic way to look at things…

…But that was how my brain decided to process the news. I had to take a week or so off just to freak out about being published. My book was out in the big wide world, which felt so final and so terrifying. No more edits, no more excuses of “Oh it’s just the ARC.” It was done!

I’ve heard many people in the industry say that a book, while you’re writing it, is your baby: but once it is published, it becomes a product. I had to remind myself of this many times as I tried to treat it as I’ve treated all other products I have worked on in the past. This time, letting go became a whole painstaking process. I continuously asked my friends to send me nice reviews so I could assure myself that not everybody was reading my book and then hating it. Then I told myself external validation didn’t mean anything in regards to my overall worth as a person. I ate way too much dessert and journaled about five pages every day, because that was how I vented my feelings. Unfortunately, I did not come across a magical solution during this time. I was objectively aware that I should be proud, but it still took a lot of conscious, hard work to begin feeling that way. I don’t have any great advice to give. It really sucked. But if you, reader, ever find yourself in a similar situation, you can at least know that there is eventually light at the end of the tunnel!

I do have to say that this journey was probably a lot messier because I had to let go of something else at the same time: my graphic novel, Terminal Hope. While I had been making slow progress on it over the years, once I got past the scripting and thumbnailing and was faced with an actual deadline by which to finish the pencils, I found myself with a pretty inconvenient realization: I have some form of complex PTSD from overworking in comics. My doctor had suggested this to me a while ago and I brushed his assessment off, because comic books seem like such a silly thing to have PTSD over. But then I began to feel both physically and mentally unwell every time I had to spend a day working on my pages. It was like my body remembered the years of hardship I put it through, and all of it came rushing back to me at once: I was constantly exhausted, I had to wear a wrist brace for days, my shoulder hurt, and then my back hurt, my body ached as if I was genuinely ill, except I wasn’t. My stress had just triggered a physical response on top of the horrible mental one that I was already fighting through.

Despite this, I did try to weather it for a while. I’d done it before—I could do it again! Except it made me utterly miserable. It made me feel like all the progress I’d made in life over the past five years amounted to nothing. The main difference was that, unlike the eager young artist I had once been, I had learned how to let go. I took a long hard look at my situation, and came to the conclusion that:

1. Life is short

2. I’m turning 33 this year

3. Trying to work the way I did at 23 was going to kill me.

So I talked to my agent and we decided it was best for me to cancel this project. Let me tell you: I felt like shit! My agent had never had to cancel a project on behalf of any of her clients before, and I was the first one! What an utter embarrassment. At the same time: what a tremendous relief.

So, Terminal Hope is no longer.

While we have notified the publisher and mutually agreed upon this decision, the paperwork has not yet been finalized. I wanted to share the news here first, because I know some people have been looking forward to this project. I truly am sorry. I still love art; I still love reading comics. I just cannot bring myself to draw them again.

I am sad, but also excited!

When one door closes, another opens, or whatever people say. With Terminal Hope now out of the way, I get to spend more time writing, and I have been loving it. I still can’t share much about my current projects yet—just that if you liked Kaim and Fion, you will probably enjoy what’s coming next!

What else have I been up to?

I am currently reading The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett, which is an incredible book. I still play a lot of League of Legends and have begun learning Vayne toplane. Usually I am a midlane Hwei, and I pick Irelia when we need AD, but I love what a monster Vayne becomes once she scales.

I am also SUPER looking forward to Hades II! I fully intend to take a week off and do nothing but grind that game morning to night when it releases. I cleared Hades at 24 runs, since it was my first ever roguelike and it took a few runs for the playstyle to click with me. This time, I will challenge myself to clear at 15 runs or less!

Santa Chin update

Here is Santa Chin, looking handsome as always. He’s so round because he’s full of mischief.

And an exciting event coming up!

I will be at Vancouver Writers Fest as a speaker on the panel, ‘The Next Generation’. Tickets are on sale now! It’s been a while since I was last on a panel, and I have to admit I’m pretty nervous. But I also look forward to chatting with industry peers, and hopefully learning a lot.

I think that’s it for now. Thank you for being here, and I’ll see you next time!