Backbone went into general release on July 28th, and I did not do backflips or jump for joy. I felt really bummed out about it actually. All this build up and—now what? Luckily I have a now what. My next book will be out in February, hopefully. I still have the edits on that one, I’m working on a new one, and brainstorming a couple others for my pipeline. Gotta have a pipeline. I get a little freaked out at the thought that I might run out of ideas. No ideas? Oh, my God!
With all of this it’s easy to lose sight of the ball—it bounces so fucking erratically anyway. I have to remind myself that the process doesn’t end with publication because the process isn’t about one book. It’s about writing, offering stuff up. Of course, that just churns up the worry/fear/dread/certainty that nobody’s going to read the damn things.
I don’t want to obsess about reviews and sales. But maybe I’m supposed to. I feel like I just hurled my book into space and strolled off without a care about where it lands. But I haven’t moved on from it. Don’t want to. Brey and Hank still resonate with me. I’m sure they always will. I want them to have a happy life—in the readers’ hearts. Your heart.
But I also can’t dwell on it. As I just wrote above, it’s a process, a journey. I am experiencing both an ending, a middle and a beginning. The writing of Backbone is over. Now is the challenge of generating interest for it and working on my WIP—the middle. The beginning? Just that all of this is new, and I suspect will be new book after book. A resumption of anxiety and hope for all of those thoughts and emotions on the pages of the newest story.
And what really sucks is that Backbone went out to about nine review sites, and nobody has offered to review it! Backbone? Kayleigh Sky? Never heard of ’um. I guess that’s how it works, and why not, it works that way with pretty much everything else. You have to already be somebody to get the interest. Another thing to add to the mix of all the things to keep working on. Process, process.
I feel a little suspended in wonder at this whole experience. A lot of it is out of my hands. It’s in everyone else’s hands now.
I have other voices wanting their share of consciousness. They have stories I’m happy to tell. Yeah, happiness. That’s what this is supposed to be about.
Can’t lose sight of the ball. Be happy. Write, write, write…