Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum.

- Graycie Harmon

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Not a Lot to Say

There isn't all that much exciting happening in my life right now. I cannot wait for the day when I can announce exiting things like:

I'll be here doing a reading and a signing for this.


Starting my whirlwind book tour. There, here I come!

The likelihood of the first one, pretty high if I remain persistent (I might be 90 by the time it happens, but it'll happen, damn it!).

The likelihood of the second one is, well, not good. The only author I know who travels a great deal on the publisher's dime is Neil Gaiman, and hell, he deserves it.

Me? Who am I? I'm just a nobody trying to break into a business with the odds stacked up against me. In this business, the odds are stacked against anyone trying to break in. I'm not special. I've self-published an eBook, which all of four people have bought. Four. No one has even bothered to review it. That is, actually, quite telling.

It'd be pretty accurate to say I'm disappointed. Mildly, of course. I didn't expect to outsell Steven King. I did hope, though, that I'd have sold more copies than four.

I'm not crying over it, really. After all, I really didn't expect much at all. It does, however, give me pause. It makes me think. Why do I bother at all?

I love to write. I love to write. There it is. This is why I'm bothering with this at all. I love to write, and it's a dream of mine to one day make a living doing what I love. It seems a lot to ask, in this industry.

Le sigh.

Rather than discouraged, however, I'm just getting stubborn. It's one of my better qualities. I'll keep writing, keep querying, keep trying until the day I die. Hopefully before then, I'll get an agent, perhaps sell a manuscript or two.

Yet even if I don't, and this is important, I'll keep trying. Agents everywhere are probably going to hate me. Meh. Whatever.

Speaking of writing, it's going quite well. The computer was horrifically slow yesterday, and so I didn't get to start writing before midday. Yes, it was that slow. That meant that there was no way I could get in my 3000 before lunch. So, I got it after lunch.

Of course, in order to do so, I had to shuffle my Beta Reading off until today. Hopefully today, I'll get my 3000 words before lunch so I can finally finish Beta Reading the manuscript and send it off to the author. After that, I can have a look at the notes from my own Beta Readers. Well, reader, so far.

You know, for someone who didn't have a lot to say, I think I managed quite well ...

Onto today's Forgotten English:


A raging; a madness; from Latin debacchatio.
- Samuel Johnson's Dictionary of the English Language, 1755

[From] debachhate, to revile one afther the manner of drunkards.
- Henry Cockeram's Interpreter of Hard English Words, 1623

Hands up if you see the root of this word having to do with Bacchus and his wine-loving revellers?

That's it from me. Have a terrific Tuesday everyone!

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