Accept the Lull

Happy New Year! Of course, it feels great to get 2020 behind us all, but with the changing of year, comes the end of the Christmas-buying season, which is a relief to most, but a difficult blow to authors trying to promote their book. We have now entered the winter lull.

Listen. As I've said before-- writing is not about making money. Write because it's therapy. Write because it's fun. Write because you can't do anything else without getting bored and irrate. Write because you need to get your crazy thoughts out of your head before they implode. But please, oh please, oh please, don't write for the money.

From a financial standpoint, writing is much, much, much more of an investment than a payday. The question is, besides burning through your bank account, how else can you spread the word about your book? How else do you get your name out there? Spending as little as possible gets little results. How do you spend wisely, and get sales from complete strangers? The more I write this blog, post-publication, the more it revolves around money, instead of creativity, which sucks. And by the way, those questions I asked? I have no idea how to answer them.

I'm an artist, a creative soul, which naturally means I hate those questions, because I hate money. Balancing a check book? No way. I hate to even think about it. Money is corrupt and evil. The batle of the haves vs the have-nots. The way money corrupts people is the main theme in some of my favorite books and movies. And many "popular" books and films suck, mainly do to the fact that they were produced by rich people who had more money than talent. They could afford to promote their project without flinching, while millions of better stories drowned in the unknown of the underfunded. Money is the enemy of art. Oh man, now I'm getting pissed just thinking about it.

So just relax. Focus on something else. As a friend and fellow writer once said "do the parts you like and let the other stuff go." Don't dwell on the negative stuff, which is so simple, yet so true. Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy the excitement of buying those first ads, or printing the merch. I did enjoy the dream, the endless possibilities... and then I saw the bills piling up and wanted to vomit.

A chuckle. The thoughts consuming and evolving. The sigh, the reveal, the perspective, this is the best part of writing. I feel better. I got the ideas out of my head and I can move on. I have hopeful ideas.

I'm looking forward to a new year, where my writing career will hopefully prosper. Hundreds of copies of To The Top of Greenfield Street have sold, and I'm hoping that word-of-mouth eventually kicks in, at least a little. My BookBub ad is still cruising along, at a way lower budget than before, but still getting impressions, still spreading the word. I entered my novel in a few contests, hopefully good news will return, which will extend the novel's reputation in other ways.

Publication is about patience more than anything, which is a tough pill to swallow. Be patient. There may be a lull, but the lull will subside. Things will be fine because the novel is good. People will like it, once they find it. Just buckle up and relax. Meditate. Write. Create. Do whatever it takes to ease your mind, because it's gonna be a long, bumpy ride.