This is the sound of a writer in anguish

Following a trail of cyber crumbs, I came across the existence of a book that echoes many, many, many of the elements of my trilogy, Witherwilds. I'm stricken, I'm gutted, I'm in agony. I know the old "nothing is new under the sun" and "it is the execution of the idea that is important" spiels, but...*collapses into a blubbering heap*

Although I see the similarities, I see differences, too. That is heartening, as is the fact that I'm still wavering about a few plot details in my already-present desire not to succumb to the siren call of rehashed fantasy tropes. Now is the time to push myself to make my idea even more fresh and unique.

But boy do I feel like doing some more blubbering. I think I need to take a break from the computer. I wonder if it is safe to attack housework in such a state.

blub
blub
blub blub
blub