Over the past few weeks, I’ve stumbled across a handful of blog posts where self-published authors lament how awful self-publishing is and say they’re giving up. I’ve also seen a few posts (perhaps in response) reminding people that self-publishing is a long journey, that it takes time, and that they shouldn’t give up before they get to the Promised Land.
While I’m personally inclined to take the latter view, I understand that people who’ve taken the former view — that quitting is best for them — may be making a good decision. Life is short. So, if self-publishing is making you completely miserable, if it’s making you dread writing, if it makes you hate looking at your sales dashboard, if it is stressing you to ulcer level, then for real, give it up. Life is too short to do optional things that make suck away your happiness. Misery is insidious in the way it infects your life, going so far as to make you physically ill. Get rid of misery. Continue reading “Self-Publishing Shouldn’t be Miserable”
Conventional wisdom says that as soon as you publish one book you should write the next. The point of this advice is understandable: don’t obsess about who’s buying your work, don’t rest on your laurels, build your backlog, be professional and proliferative. To tell you the truth, though, the idea of diving into another novel right now makes me want to cry. I’m exhausted. I imagine it’s like being in a delivery room after a natural childbirth while the goo is still being sucked from the nose of your newborn and before the endorphins have kicked in, hearing your husband say, “Let’s have another one. Or two. Or ten.” People have been murdered for less.