Reflections of a Disappointed Author
It is now almost a year and a half since I published my book. I tried to do it properly. I used a professional editor and cover designer. I was hoping, not for overnight success, but that the sales would help to pay for next book in the series to be published. I have just completed my tax returns and I made the grand total of £1.48 in royalties.
I started 2018 in high hopes, in spite of previous experiences. I was going to publish the second book of the series. People would like it, better than the first one. Then the market would be ready and eager for the third book.
But gradually the doubts crept in. People I knew were not reading my first book. They made reasonable excuses. They didn’t like fantasy or the idea of parallel. They were busy or they were just ominously silent. Perhaps the book really was awful? Perhaps my tone, my writing was terrible. I hoped that it was not that. That it was only my marketing skills that were terrible.
Then I started to doubt the second book too. I knew that there bits I loved, scenes that I hoped other people would love too but there were also areas I really needed to work on. And then I began to think what was the point. With no money for the final edit would my efforts be wasted. If no one was going to read the book did it need to be perfected, in my eyes at least?
And then there was the third book; the story of my youth with imagination obviously. In a way this was my favourite book because I had lived this story, not all of it, but enough of it to make me feel deeply connected. But then again – what was the point of tidying up the lacklustre end section? What was the point of anything?
If I do not write – and I have not written for nearly a year – then I am just a lump of flesh, trying to find droplets of pleasure in the passing years, waiting for death.
I hope that tomorrow will bring a more optimistic turn of mind.
By Aaron D.Key