The Upside of Just Starting

I haven’t checked if anyone has read my second book. I’m avoiding it. Not because of any obvious reason. I would be able to put it into fewer words if it were. Instead it’s this big cluster of crap swirling around my head at the concept. If I check, I’ll know. I’ll know it and the thoughts that will come flooding over me after I know won’t stop and I’d really rather not be under constant attack from within. Doubt is a merciless tracker.

One. I don’t market. The only way anyone knows about my having started venturing into the world of word peddling is if they know me personally or by an odd extension of someone else knowing me personally. I mean, maybe there are a few outliers that have stumbled across it because they search for weird things on the internet and I got thrown up there as a suggestion. I’ll never know that. I just didn’t see the point in marketing. I was going to write it regardless if anyone read it.

Two. I don’t market because that would require social media - I don’t like social media. Vehemently. Not in that crap way of people living on their high horse and staring down their nose at people who scroll their day away. I don’t have a horse in that race. What any one person decides to do is all their own. I just personally hate the concept. But Brianna - how will you ever stay in touch with people? But Brianna - how will you know what is going on across the world? I answer. I call my people. I write letters. I make plans with my people. If I really wanted to, I could visit far away places and explore and find out what is happening first hand. If you can’t call them for a ride to the airport - they aren’t your people anyways. What’s the point of seeing photos of their life when you aren’t in it? It’s stalking as a socially acceptable norm. It’s freaking weird and I’ll never get over it. But then again, I’m not on social media so maybe I’ve got it all wrong.

Three. I’ve only just started out. I am clinging to the concept that it’s better if no one has a clue about me yet. I’ll write a few more books and by the time some people figure out that I’m a modern marvel of the world, I’ll have a whole list of books for them to read. It’s better to wait. It’s better to remain in the obscure and lost regions of the Amazon lists until I’ve got more. More experience, more time, more effort - just more. It’s the one excuse I feel has some real teeth to it. The upside of just starting gives me this security blanket of putting it off.

Four. The it of this whole thing is this: if I market it, if I put my effort into shouting about my books all over social media and in whatever other ways there are - people could still not care. It would mean people heard about, possibly looked it up, read a description or some free sample of the first chapter and decided - nah. If I put the word out, and the world rejects it - the upside may quickly go ass over teacup and let doubt do a number on me.

Five. Writing and then selling it feels even worse than social media sometimes. I ignore social media because I truly don’t want to tell people about my mundane things because I don’t think anyone should be overly interested in what’s going on in my life. But apparently I feel like whatever I write would be worth your money because I’m so amazing? Oh the freaking hypocrisy.

Ah, but then again - I’m just one of the masses. I’ll write because I love it. I’ll sell it because why not? It’ll sit there or sell or be laughed at and I’ll be none the wiser. For now. Because if I start thinking about this as a challenge… Can I make a book that makes people think? Can I write a book that may change how people think? Can my words be more than words and inspire feelings that become actions?

Challenge accepted.

Happy Independence Day! I hope we all remember why we fight and fight again.