Confession: I want it all.
I have a beautiful family, a husband and two small daughters, as well as the family dog. I have a successful career and the blessing of enjoying my day job. I’m interested in politics and world events. (And it could be a full-time job keeping up with developments in that arena lately.) I love food and feeding people, and spend lots of time in the kitchen.
And I’ve been drawn into the self-publishing revolution to realize my dream of writing fiction for an audience.
I’ve been a writer since childhood. Also an avid reader, I have always loved how words come together to bring a scene to life in my mind, whether it be someone else’s fiction or my own. I began to pursue novel writing in my spare time right after finishing grad school in 2004 – when I found myself worrying that no career could keep me interested and satisfied for long.
Fits and starts, and apparently years (where did those go?) later, I have over a thousand pages of manuscript, most of which will probably never see the light of day. Lots of it is good, but none of it is publishable. (I’ll tell you more about the paranormal romance I’m publishing this year in another post.)
What have I learned through all this trial and error? A lot about my style, and myself – what gets me to kickin’ ass, and what keeps me from being productive. I’ve learned to trick and organize myself into getting words from my brain to the page… and I’m still learning to follow through and finish what I start.
I’ve heard many writers say their first (or first few) novels didn’t go anywhere – there’s just too much of a learning curve, and by the time you’re a good enough writer, you’ve damaged these first projects so badly that sometimes there’s just no saving them. My very first book-length project is a story that I’m still very attached to. It sits in my drawer, a 500-page behemoth of a manuscript. Sometimes I get it out and begin to read through it lovingly, only to put it down soon after as the size of the thing breaks through my rose-colored glasses and I become daunted by my own vision. I love the story. It’s a good story. But I didn’t do it justice those first serious writing years, and I will not sacrifice my vision just to publish it. My husband, on the other hand, believes it would be cathartic to sever the cord and get it out there.