Dear author with the newly-released book, The publication of your first novel is exciting. Just ask any author who has gone before you. I'm sure you're awash in so many emotions it's difficult to choose just one. That's understandable, and we certainly don't want to take any of your happiness away or steal your joy. What we want to do is give you some insider tips that will come in handy now that you've become a published author. These aren't strict, dyed-in-the wool guidelines you must follow. They're just things we've noticed, obstacles we've overcome, and mistakes we've made that you, hopefully, won't have to make because we're sharing them here.
So there you have it. Some truths from authors who have taken the journey you've just started. We've all been published; we've all made mistakes; and we've all survived them. You can, too, but you have to commit to this career. Writing isn't a get-rich quick scheme. It might not be as back-breaking as digging ditches or repairing roofs, but it takes the same amount of effort. And you have to determine you're in this for the long haul. It won't be easy. There will be times you'll feel like quitting. But if this is a dream for you, a true calling, you'll never give in to that urge. Because writing is your life.
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I survived another Valentine's Day without a significant other! It might not seem like such a feat, but when you're surrounded by hearts, candy, flowers, and cards, surviving is just about all you can hope for. My main goal is not to cry because Sally got more lovin' from Harry twenty-five years ago than I've gotten in...well...quite some time. So my Valentine's Day went a little like this. Stayed up as late as I could the night before so I could sleep in that morning. Went to work for a couple of hours which is a great distraction normally. However, that particular day, all the women were getting flowers from their devoted husbands and boyfriends. I was a little grumpy. After I finished sucking up to the boss, I left work and went to visit a friend who lives thirty minutes away from me. (That hour round-trip erased some more time!) She and I chatted until her husband and daughter got home. Her eighteen-year-old daughter needed help picking out a gift for her boyfriend so I gladly volunteered to take her. We trekked through Walmart (and anyone who knows me knows I loathe that store) for what felt like two hours. Turns out it was only twenty minutes. They didn't have what she was looking for, so we headed off to a sporting goods store/hunting store/everything that makes a man drool store. There we find the bows for his compound bow. Well, we find the material. The bows have to be assembled. Off we go next door to sample appetizers and catch up on all the happenings in her life while we wait for the gifts to be prepared. An hour later, Maid Marian has the bows for Robin Hood, and we're on our way back to her house. By this time, it's already six o'clock. See how this is working out? My friend and her husband are still getting ready for their night on the town so we chat some more. I don't leave until seventy-thirty or so. By the time I get home, it's after eight (because of lovers' traffic), and the night is almost over. Once I'm home, I feed my cat who is a little surly since I haven't been home all day. There's no way I'm turning on the TV to hear "every kiss begins with K", but I know I can control what I see on my laptop. I navigate around all the happy wishes on Facebook, barely miss a HUGE heart someone pasted on a blog I read, avoid Pinterest altogether, and dive into my latest manuscript. That particular chapter I wrote does not contain one ounce of love, sensuality, or happiness. Nope. That was the night I let my inner Wicked Witch out, and I sent the characters on a mad, miserable dash through the maze my love-starved brain had invented. Within a couple of hours, they were apart due to a rather satisfying argument, my cat and I were friends again, and Valentine's Day was nothing but a distant memory. So how was your day? |
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