This Should Be Fun, Right?
Back in the day when the Internet Gods had just gifted us with Ceiling Cat and I was big into MySpace, I had a blog. I’d post on it, occasionally. And people read it. But then I said screw it and deleted the thing.
And yay, life was good, and the Internet Gods did rain YouTube down upon us and shove Facebook down our throats. I began writing in earnest in 2007, and even tricked a publisher into accepting my novella the following year.
So I went a wee bit overboard and vowed to NEVER WRITE AGAIN. I had a pretty good run of it, too. I think I dedicated about seven years of my life to ignoring the need to type, write, scratch on paper, etc. Until finally, I read a book.
That itself isn’t a big deal. I devour books the way I devour candy: Double fistfuls until I’m so sick I can’t see straight. (Sexy, right?) But this book pissed me off. I mean, like blind fury.
You see, the book was very poorly written. The words were confusing, points of view were way off, and it was confusing. But it had a good plot and somewhat likable characters. I’m a big fan of self-published authors – being one myself – and I can put up with a LOT of crap for the sake of a good plot. But this… this was rough.
I made it all the way through, and was annoyed that I made it so far. So I did what any asshole with a keyboard would do, and I looked for the author bio on Amazon. And discovered that I was being a total dick.
The author had pieced this damn book together despite the fact that she was dyslexic. She was so proud of herself for actually completing her first book, something she had always wanted to do. She knew the writing wasn’t the best, and I’m pretty sure she expected the snarky and hurtful comments. Despite that, she published it anyway.
This woman, who had to struggle to get her ideas out of her head and onto the page on a daily basis, had done that. And she was pretty prolific too. I read my way through more of her books, and the second was better. By the fourth I realized that she had found a fair editor who helped her make the book flow better. And she kept chucking ideas out there.
I was furious at myself. This woman, who had so many obstacles, followed her dreams and put her art out there. I, by contrast, got burned once and refused to write again. I was mad at the time I wasted and the ideas I ignored. I finally put together an outline, and slowly Mia, Isabel, and Luke popped into existence.
I’m so glad I came across the-author-who-shall-remain-nameless. She reminded me that shit happens, and you just roll with it and keep going. I finally finished my first Otherkin book, decided to self-publish to avoid another publishing house nightmare, and even though there’s a massive learning curve to being a self-published author, I’m kinda liking it.
I’ve started this blog to capture the progress I’m making in the sequel, Enter the Demon. I’d like to post updates, ask readers their opinions on certain things, and perhaps catch a beta reader or two later on when the book is near completion. Because I love beta readers.
Also, I complain a fair bit. And I cuss like a sailor. I’ll probably post random things too. Sorry about that.
