After years spent learning how the publishing industry ticks while improving my writing, I finally achieved my goal. My debut novel has been published and released. I’ve graduated, right? Writing the book, sending out queries, editing, waiting, critique, editing some more, waiting, contracts, waiting, final edits, waiting, galley proof, waiting, release date confirmed, waiting. What else could I possibly need to learn once those lovely two boxes were delivered?
Scheduling book signings? Not too difficult, especially when shared by three friends. Marketing materials? Postcards were a snap. Book trailers? An amazingly talented friend managed the bulk of that task. Networking on various sites? Time consuming and nit-picky sometimes, but kind of fun. Revising my website and links? Yawn. Press releases? Totally blessed to have a Sister of the Quill volunteer to write the most significant of those. (Thank you, Inkpot!)
So what did I miss? My goal has been achieved. A pristine copy of my book now sits on my bookshelf, next to Harry Potter. (Yes, I know that’s completely optimistic, but after all, writers are dreamers.) I know what I’m doing now! Right? Wrong. Why didn’t someone tell me how difficult it would be to pen an intelligent, inspiring note and sign one of my books? Writing in books is forbidden! I learned that as a child. But I want to give copies of my book to special friends and family and I want to inscribe them. Here I am, a writer, used to putting words together in a semi-coherent fashion, yet it took me three hours to personalize just eleven books. Sigh. And I’m not done yet… Folio