Well now…

Eh, I wish I were better at this.  I should be ready to write on here all the time.  I don’t know why I have such a block about it, but I won’t bore you with excuses.  I just haven’t done it.  Haven’t made it a habit yet but hopefully, I’ll get there.  Nah, I will.  One day when it matters!

I’m wrapping up the third book nicely.  Neatly.  All it needs is a bow.  Personally, I’ll be happy to see the end of it.  Half of my mind is already on to the next book which has slowed things down considerably.  One foot in the future isn’t always a good thing.

But it has been interesting to hear the people in my life ask about it.  I still haven’t told anyone outside of family and very close friends that I’m even writing books.  So having even this little bit of outside pressure is something I don’t have a lot of experience with.  That isn’t totally true.  I was the editor of my high school yearbook.  I remember deadlines and taking criticism well enough.

I also remember how much I don’t like answering to anyone else about anything I’m doing.  I’ll do it when I’m good and ready.  This feeling is why I am very happy not to have an editor or a team of people that are pestering me for the next book.  They wouldn’t like me, and it wouldn’t be a lasting relationship.

I do find myself falling victim to a very weird type of fear.  Fear of success?  Fear of failure?  Fear of not meeting personal expectations?  Fear of looking like a fool.  I don’t want to write meaningless stories.  I don’t want my book to get buried under the countless other books that are being released into the wild.  I want them to mean something.  Ha.  I always circle to this.

The books mean something to me, so I’ve already succeeded in that sense.

Success is they are in fact published.  Check.

Failure?  Can’t fail because my only goal is to complete them.  Done.

Fear of personal expectations… that one has been around for a long time and isn’t going anywhere so it’s best shoved in a box and tossed into the back of my mind.  I am a person and I expect things.  That’s life.

Looking like a fool?  I’m not stupid.  Done.

My stories aren’t meaningless.  They each follow a direct path of discovery for the characters and hopefully along the way drop enough nuggets of cool things that the reader feels like their minds have been added to while reading the story.

As to getting buried under the countless other books – that leads to marketing, and I still feel ill even thinking about doing that.  But.  Maybe soon.  I like this next book.  It’s worth telling a few people about it.  Maybe with a few hints to the world about it, it won’t get completely buried.  There.  Worry solved.

Now, I just gotta do it.

Fine.  Bleh.  Bye.