I just realize my last post was a loooonnnnng time ago. Usually, I try to post once a week. But with being under the weather with allergies on top of an upper respiratory infection, I’ve holed myself away from social media to recuperate. Recently, I’m feeling back to normal without the emotional lows and highs. My trips to the therapist are now every three weeks instead of every week. And I have my energy back with the reminder to take things slow. Remember, it was the tortoise that won the race, not the hare.
And I love my decision to self-publish. I work closely with my cover artist and she gives me valuable input. My editor, a New York published author and a fellow RWA chapter mate, challenges me to make my book the best it can be. I struggle with her suggestions because it requires some rewriting and rearranging of scenes. But, being self-published, I don’t have a deadline. I do set goals. Otherwise, I’d procrastinate.
I wouldn’t trade the creative freedom to publish traditionally again. Some writers might have the patience, fortitude and big dreams to do all that is required to submit to traditional publishers only to be rejected 12 weeks, 6 months or a year later. I’m not willing to put my future in someone else’s hands. And how many people see that manuscript before a decision is made whether to extend an offer or reject the book? In the beginning of the acquisition process- one person.
To me, what counts is my readers’ reaction. So if you don’t hear from me for a while, it’s because I’m busy working on getting Reclaimed ready to publish by the end of this month. And hopefully by the end of June, a full length book, the first in a trilogy. It’s ambitious. But don’t worry, I won’t be crashing and burning again any time soon. Self-publishing has given me the gift of time.