Welcome to my first blog series...
This is the first of many in a series where I share with readers and other writers why I am bad at being an independently published author.
Search the internet, and you will find hundreds, if not thousands, of aspiring romance authors with novellas and novels published on Amazon. With Goodreads pages and Pinterest accounts, Spotify playlists and caffeinated drinks, they share aesthetically pleasing pictures of their book nooks and latest hardcover purchases. I am they. They are me.
We are passionate and inspired. We love love, are obsessed with tortuous paths towards happy endings. So desperate for the next seductive tale, we have turned towards writing our own stories, creating our own characters, and indulging in our own escapism.
We get too excited.
I will calm down and speak for myself. See, I get too excited.
Sometimes inspiration sneaks up on me in the form of a subtle thought just as I'm about to close my eyes to sleep.
Other times, it strikes like a dump truck running a red light, narrowly missing me as I stand in the middle of a crosswalk. Plot points, character traits, even rock stars singing sultry lyrics tumble around in my brain at all hours of the day. I can't scribble down the ideas fast enough.
There are spiral notebooks with my barely legible handwriting in every room of my house. I have one stuffed into my work bag. A smaller, more sensible one is in my purse at all times.
Those able to stay on task are probably thinking this is a lovely way to always be prepared for those random strikes of inspiration. Too bad I have to tell you there is no rhyme or reason to what I write in these notebooks. I have to use sticky tabs to mark where each new idea begins.
Spoiler alert: it's not as pretty as this.
All of the above is forgivable. After all, I'm not forcing you to read these hastily scribbled, haphazardly crafted thoughts. My point is, when I get too excited, I sacrifice plans to vibes. I ride the euphoric high that comes from writing a few pages, pages which feel so brilliant in the moment, I think I don't even need to have it finished to pitch it.
I could cry out from the rooftops, sharing this new brilliant idea. I could possibly even query it. The words are flowing so fast in the beginning, they surely will continue to flow this freely until the whole novel is perfectly written. Maybe it will only need a few edits, but maybe not.
I was so overconfident in my first romantasy that I went full send. The novella came complete with a stereotypical prologue and prophecy. There were even copious amounts of typos. Don't worry, I took it down from my Amazon however, the book details live in infamy on my Goodreads account.
Check out the lame cover design. The poor choice of font and the generic Kindle Cover Create template which is evident from a mile away. Thank goodness I am also bad at advertising because no one read this poorly crafted slop.
BUT... I learn by doing. I learn by messing up. It sounds, well, messed up, but it's true. Publishing these early works were amazingly educational. Having to pull down my publication, because when I reread it with a clear mind, was horrifically humbling.
If you have read this far, I have no grand secret. The moral of the story is proof-read and proof-read again. Also, when you are drunk on your work, don't hit the publish button yourself. Let the high wear off. And if it doesn't seem to wear off, if you still look at your work like it is a mistake-free work of genius, pay someone else to read it and give you the naked, ugly truth.
Just because you can, doesn't mean you should!
We all make mistakes but remember, mistakes posted to the internet have a way of outliving us all! Until next time, I will continue to ponder why I am bad at this whole self-published author thing. I look forward to sharing with you more unenlightened insights.
Forgive me,
Melanie
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