Man, I was so sure I was going to win. I was so close to the semifinal circle in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards that I could taste it. My Tarot cards even said good news was coming! What could possibly go wrong?
Well, Seized could fail to be a semifinalist. That’s what could go wrong. And did, this past Tuesday.
If you’ve been playing this game of life for long enough, you’ve entered some contest or another, and unless you’re an extraordinary individual (and if so, I’d like to stand very close to you so the magic rubs off), you’ve lost at least once. So you know what it’s like: the sinking feeling in your gut; the denial; the rage; the desire to put the whole episode into your next novel and savage all those rotten writers whose books made the cut, because God knows nobody’s – NOBODY’S – was better than yours!
Oh, right. Sorry. Continue reading “I Could Have Been a Contender!”
The Dude stepped out of the saloon’s swinging doors and stopped short. “Oh, Lord, here comes another one,” he muttered. Chewing on a stalk of hay, he watched with increasing disgust as a wide-eyed young woman stumbled in and out of the businesses that lined the street. She hugged a sheaf of papers, tied neatly with string, to her chest, and one fist clutched a stack of full-color brochures and business cards. The wad of advertising material increased in size with each stop, and her expression drooped at the same rate. 
Being an indie author has its perks. One of our advantages over the big guys is that we can react faster to changing circumstances. You could say that while they’re driving Humvees, we’re driving Mini-Coopers; while they’re piloting a hulking Armageddon machine, we’ve got go-kart handling.