Acknowledgments & Birthday Announcements & Writers are writers and other Universal Truths

As horrible as I am at self-promotion, the breaks continue to come.  Let me be clear in saying, that has absolutely nothing to do with me suddenly becoming more comfortable with telling people that I wrote a book and that I want them to also buy it.  Nope I'm still the same level of awful in that regard.

BUY MY BOOK:
The reason my books are ever discussed is due to my friends and family. I swear they are more enthusiastic about the fact that I write books than I am.  Sure, as the author I love my characters, I miss my characters and I help record their stories as they dictate them to me, but once it's all on the page, my desire for people to read it is a mixed bag.

I PROBABLY NEED A PEN-NAME:
While I love when people read and actually feel something when they read my work I also feel anxiety and self-conscious about them actually reading it.

DO ALL ARTISTS FEEL THIS WAY OR AM I THE EXCEPTION:
It's weird spending months, or years on something only for someone to toss it aside or hate it,  so why go through that, when I could just write it, quietly publish it, and then pretend it never happened? Afterall once it's complete my job is done right?  Well no.  And I think that' s why traditional publishing still exists.  Writers write, and then we move on to the next.  Then the editors make it readable, the publisher gets to promote and sell. The writer is not meant to be apart of that process and I think it's because us writers are mostly introverts and if we not introverts then it's enough that we are writers.  We aren't claiming to be anything else.  We aren't supposed to be good at anything else...Except that we have chosen to self-publish so we have to be good at those other things.


I suppose this is my round about awkward and clunky way of saying, Thanks Guys for all your support and for helping me to sell my books because we all know I suck at it.  And lastly Happy Birthday Alyssa Berrington who was kind enough last year to except the first few pages of the final Harlow book as an acceptable present.