2014 was supposed to be my year, wasn’t it? I had so many plans for myself. Now March is drawing to a close and most days I feel worse about myself than ever before. In some ways I blame the weather. Every time I craft plans for myself, things I want to accomplish, it seems that it snows or rains again. How nice would it be to string together three nice days in a row? Money also continues to be a worry; I was overdrawn at the bank this month for the first time in over five years. My lack of income was always a concern but somehow I managed to keep a positive balance despite having no steady job after December 2010. I’m sure things are going to be dodgy money-wise at least through my birthday, which is no longer the financial windfall it was once upon a time. The older you get, the less people care about you. That’s the honest truth. I literally cannot afford to buy Heart Trouble even though it is now available in paperback. I do hope that things can eventually turn around, that at some point I can recapture my previous sales success in publishing. I am trying to finish two different books, and I have another idea in the queue. I just don’t have much confidence in my writing anymore, which matches the fact that I’ve never had any confidence in myself.
Monday, March 24, 2014
At long last, Heart Trouble is available to order in paperback form. To be honest, I cannot afford to buy a copy of my own novel, which should tell you something about the ups and downs of being a writer. Heart Trouble was not one of my longer novels, and it is a quick read. But it also marks the point where I changed my writing style and tried to branch out into some different territory. I’m not sure when it will be available but it is up for ordering, and that is the important fact given my long wait time. Then again, publishing tends to move at the speed of a glacier, and the only way to have a book available immediately is to print it yourself.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
My last novel was written in twenty-one days, which may or may not be a statistic worth repeating. With the current one, however—I am 23,000 words into it—I find myself being a lazy writer, not having added any text for the past three days. I think my lack of initiative may be the result of several different factors: indifference to my last two books, lack of attachment to my current characters, or perhaps a loss of my writing inspiration. I can clearly see my hero and heroine, the progression of their relationship and its ultimate endgame, but I don’t think I’ve been happy enough lately to give anyone else’s story its proper conclusion. I have grown increasingly disenchanted not with writing but with lip service. I have eagerly been anticipating the paperback of my published novel for months now, as I have plans in my mind to promote it to a magazine with a large readership and wide coverage. As the months pass, it seems increasingly pointless: if the book is ever printed, I will ship it for review, but it becomes a question of timeliness; will anyone care if the book is a year old by that point? Have I missed my chance to make a big push and have people by the book? I know all authors—all people, really—must multitask, and I can do it as well (or as poorly) as anyone. But it’s very difficult to accomplish your goals when you have so much on your mind.