Just realized it’s been five years since I started this whole writing journey. And…?
I don’t know.
I’m proud of what I’ve written but underwhelmed by how I’ve done overall. And yet, 2,500+ paid sales is not nothing. And having some complete stranger describe one of your books as “Fantastic” is pretty-damned awesome.
But it’s just hard at times. Writing is a very up and down experience that requires a tremendous amount of dedication. (Of course, ironically, my second-most successful story took one day to write and publish…so not a whole lot of dedication involved there, was there?)
My latest novel took me 160 hours to write. And I’m very happy with it. But you put in all that time, alone, and then you release it to the world and…
Maybe nothing. Maybe no one even reads it. Because you’re competing against so many others that visibility is a real challenge.
Which means the writing has to be about something else.
I keep doing it, but damned if I know what that is. Maybe it’s my own version of therapy? Working through all my thoughts and worries about the world by creating characters and making their lives hell for a while?
Or maybe it’s just sheer pigheadedness. I’m used to being successful so damn it I’m going to keep doing this until I’m successful at it, too.
I don’t know.
What I do know is I’m not done yet.
Maybe after ten years…Or a million words of published fiction…Or 100 titles published.
Some goal I haven’t yet reached.
The one that leads to success.