February 16, 2022
Week 71
Emotional State: Stuck in the Middle
Books & Writing
The song, Stuck in the Middle Again, is playing in my head right now, because that’s where I’m at. Stuck between marketing my first book and editing my second. Between working and editing others’ work and my own. Between wanting to take a break and knowing any break I take now will set me back months.
In short, I’m struggling a bit. I’m resisting the urge to sink into nothingness, to loll the day away and not keep on top of social media. I’m navigating the writing community on Twitter, a Tiktok group on FB, a second fantasy group on FB plus an author business group, promotions running or about to, redesigning my site so that it looks good, but is my own, a visiting stepkid, the end of a writing cohort and freelance projects.
I feel pulled in so many directions and I am tired. I want to socialize with my stepkid, but by the time I’m done for the day, I’ve got no juice left in the tank to create meaningful conversation. But this week is the toughest and I just need to remember that. Next week will be easier, although I’ll have taxes to do and a trip to the DMV to navigate. But it’s still easier.
Right?
I have no idea. I’m sitting on the couch, typing away with my eyes half-closed while I figure out how to do all the things and have energy left over. How do people do it? Keep going from one project to another – go go go – never slowing down to sit still?
That is not me. I’m trying to make that person me. Really hard. Like the hardest I’ve ever tried anything in a while and all I have to show for it is fatigue. And a half-completed website. And some social media that’s plugging ahead. It’s not a total wash, but it’s a complete success either.
And I’m back. I just took a ten minute nap right then, before the words “I’m back.” I fell asleep with my hands on the keyboard. I think it has to do with lunch or the lack thereof. Or this journal post is so boring it put me to sleep.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. It has nothing to do with burning the candle at both ends.
Decisions, Decisions
In other news, I’ve been analyzing my Kindle Unlimited numbers and coming up a bit….short. Out of eight people, seven of them stopped at page five, which got me thinking about prologues and whether my prologue is too different from the rest of the book.
I reached out to TikTok to see what they said and everyone said I should use beta readers. Okay, it’s my fault I didn’t explain that not only did I have three editors look at it, but also beta readers as well, so I don’t think it’s that I didn’t have enough people look at it. A part of me was frustrated – an inner trigger prodded by the ‘do you think I’m an amateur?’ response.
Yes, yes they do because I’m an indie author and we’re all just figuring it out. I need to not take the advice personally because I put it out there that I was seeking advice. I am an indie author and while my first foray into publishing had a helping hand in the program I used to get it out there, it’s still all on me.
One author mentioned my author’s note was the first thing they saw and another read my prologue and thought it was good. So, I’ve since moved my author’s note to the end and you know what? People are reading it past page 5. It might be a coincidence or it might be the author’s note. Either way, I don’t care. The needle moved and that’s all that matters.
And that’s really what being an indie author is all about. Fumbling around in the dark, trying hard not to shoot yourself in the foot, jump to conclusions, or wear yourself out. It’s a constant struggle with life, taking advice, not listening to advice, seeking advice and hoping you’re doing the right thing.
I never realized just how many decisions I don’t like to make until I went down this rabbit hole called publishing and had to make tons of them. I’m getting better at it, though. I do the research but ultimately need to follow my own gut and my own path.
That includes whether or not I write to market. I get it, it’s how you get readers to read your stuff. It’s feeding the machine and supplying the product readers are looking to buy or read. But it feels like a business decision instead of a creative one. It feels like I’m just writing my book to make money.
Except I want to be a full time writer and to do that, I need to make money. But I don’t want to let go of my creative integrity. I don’t want to bow down to ‘the man.’ It’s this weird zone to be in, this space between. And not the space in my books either.
I’ll figure it out. Just like my main character, Seraphina, I’ll navigate this grey zone as best I can, making the right choices for me or the wrong ones, again for me.
After all, if I fail, I only have myself to blame, right?