My first book, Duney, was published in 2014. To be honest, I didn’t know what I was doing and I had chosen to do it alone. I managed to get a few events, which was great, but the road I was on was going on cruise control set at a slow speed. The town I live in has a Christmas market every year that they, at that time, let authors participate in. So, I signed up. By the time the market rolled around, I did great with just the one book and looked forward to the next year.
Last week, for me, just was not a good week. I didn’t feel good most of the week. I was also a little depressed part of the week because I came to realize something I didn’t like discovering. You see, I live in one town and work in another. My work hours make it difficult to be involved in anything in the town I live in because events are either already underway or over by the time I’m home. I don’t volunteer to be a part of anything in the town I live in because I can’t promise regular attendance on my part.
Yesterday was National Indie Author Day. I had the opportunity to celebrate the event with a local library. There were about twelve authors at the event, each one at a different stage of their author life. While I get nervous before an event (especially if I know I have to do some public speaking stuff), I look forward to the events I attend.
Sometime within the last twelve months, my sister made a comment to me. She told me that 2018 was going to be my year. Whoohoo!