Gathering reviews is just one element of the multi-headed monster that is marketing. I’ve gotten where I (think) I can write books passably well, but marketing myself is a different animal. Some people are just born to shout things from the rooftops, and there are others of us who just wish the rooftop shouters would just keep it down — we don’t want to compete with them and we’ve got writing to do, dammit!
Working from home, Maggie quickly became my Vice President of Canine Affairs, and gave me that certainty of being able to take part in a quick belly rub, a game of fetch or tug of war, or just a sympathetic ear when I needed to vent. When I’d inevitably read one of those articles online about a dog who recovered after being abused by someone, or how the loss of a dog affected its owner (if you’re reading this, I’m assuming you can relate), I’d stop what I was doing, go find her usually asleep on the couch, and give her a snuggle. She’d wake up, wonder what I was on about, and then allow it. We had a rhythm and it worked.
Last night, I did something that the people who actually know me would find hard to believe.
I spoke in front of a crowd. Of teenagers. About myself.
I’ve gone through all the self-doubt, second-guessing and “what does it all mean” phases that I expected to while writing, but recently I ran into a wall I didn’t see coming while getting this book of short short stories ready for the world.
There was a very real, very strong internal resistance I found myself facing that was completely unexpected.