I tell you, there are some days where I just want to close my computer and be done with this writing business.
But I’m stubborn.
And yet, it feels, more often than not, like an uphill trudge through quicksand with an epileptic elephant on my back. Blindfolded.
Between book pirates and certain vendors constantly swapping out book categories willy-nilly, well, is it any wonder so many authors are throwing up their hands or silently backing away from the publishing world?
No. I don’t think that should surprise anyone.
All I know is that every day, I show up. I sit my ass in a chair or on this couch (if the dog will allow.)
I open my laptop. I write. I edit. I promote.
I market my books to the best of my abilities.
Until my eyeballs hurt because they’ve been open and staring way too long.
And then there are days where I cannot help but wonder why in the world I put myself through this madness. It is madness. I can think of no other business that requires utter focus and creativity one moment and then the business mind of a Harvard prodigy the next, all while working for peanuts.
And there’s only one answer I can genuinely claim.
The feeling I got when I was walking through my first reader conference and a woman was standing in a big long line. She glanced over and read my name tag.
And promptly screamed my name.
Her excitement and enthusiasm at meeting me is something I will never forget.
That is why I write.
That’s why I’ll continue to write.
