Category: Author Life
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It turns out the day after sort of just feels like the day before. Or the day before that. There’s nothing profound or life altering about it. Not really anyway. I got up, read, worked out, and went to work like any other Monday. It was quiet. It was pedestrian. Knowing my book is out…
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I went to bed a writer and woke up an author. How surreal. From a very young age, I knew I had a gift to give the world. It just took me 45 years to figure out the best vehicle to deliver it in. Now, only history will tell me if it was the right…
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I thought today would feel different. In some ways it does… I guess. My anxiety is ratcheted up a notch, even from its usual “stuck on high” setting. I feel uncertain about what I should be doing more of to promote it, but I’ve done that every day since I finished my first draft, so…
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I am a walking set of contradictions, an enigmatic concoction of diametrically opposed ingredients. My parts are eclectic and difficult to reconcile. On one hand, I have a burning desire for my book to be read. I want it in the world, being devoured, and touching people’s lives. I want my book to succeed. I…