"Making It"

For the last few days I've been talking about my excitement concerning the imminent self-publication of a novel I wrote in November.  From the way I've been talking, it might almost seem as if I believe that I have "made it" as a writer.

So I guess I want to talk about that today.  For one thing, the review was finished this morning, but I'm not satisfied with how the formatting turned out, so I've spent the majority of my morning re-formatting the manuscript to fix the issues I found in my digital proof.  Then, when I get my second review back positive, I'm gonna need to front a bit of cash for a physical proof to make sure the book can be read as it is.  So there's still some time before I can even have my five free copies for friends and family.

Even then I haven't "made it," because it's only one book I'm publishing myself, and the sales will be based on word of mouth more than anything else.  I can't expect to make a living like this, and I suppose that's one metric I'd consider for "making it" as a writer.  I want to live off of my writing.

I don't expect to start off my professional life with a bang.  Not in the slightest.  I'm looking for a starter job and I'm planning on going for my Master's in about a year.  I have connections to build.  So I'm not anywhere, really.

At the same time, this is the closest I've been to having my writing really out there for more than just close friends and family.  I'm still really excited, but I know it doesn't mean that much.

Even if I get to the point where I'm working a writing job, and getting books published, and have a following, I think I still won't have made it.  I don't ever want to get complacent.  I want to push upwards and onwards until my mind can't put word and word together.

This is just a beginning.

Don't Tell Anyone, But I Used a Church's WiFi to Publish This Post

Had Culver's tonight.  That was yummy.  Also had conversations about faith and life and country music with a good friend.  These are marks of a good life.

I don't really have a topic for today's blog post.  I'm writing it as I wait to pick up my little sister from youth group.  These are all trappings of an older life, tinged at the edges with slivers of surrealism.  As I've mentioned, my sister's a teenager now, and acting like it.  Yes, I remember changing her diapers.  Not like yesterday, but still.

I'm getting ready to read an obscure book written in the 1870s.  I'm kind of super-excited about it.  It's a sequel.  Think Dickens in America, and you'll be close.

I also reached about half-way through my revision of the Hearthstead novel.  Once I get through it (or maybe before) I can incorporate the suggestions of my co-world builder and submit it to NaNoWriMo to get a hold of five copies.  At least three of those are already accounted for, so if you're interested and you aren't direct family or a close friend of our family, you'll have to first-come first-serve.  If there's enough demand I'm open to selling self-published copies, though I'll need to be compensated before publishing.  I'll probably have more to say about that in about a month, after I've finished the revision process.  If you're really interested now, though, definitely get a hold of me.

God bless you tonight, tomorrow, and till He comes.