So I was born about 39 years ago as of... Wednesday. As a scientist, I know that this is mostly irrelevant... age is just a number and all that. Thirty-nine successful circumnavigations of the sun, and that's it, really.
Still, I hate my birthday, but I try to use it as an excuse for some analysis. For example, the last novel I published was in 2016... which is far, far too long ago. It's been an insanely busy, tiring, exhausting few years since then, but I sincerely doubt that will change.
Thankfully, if you were here last week, you know that I submitted Novel 2 to an agent last week, who said they would get back to me in 3 months or so. If they don't love it, then I submit to other agents and publishers (en masse this time), and then if that fails to find it a home, I self-publish it around October or November.
So at least I can say I'll have a book out this year. And that's something.
And then with a bit of hard work (forget luck, I have lots of that but almost all of it is bad) I might get another novel out this year, or very early next year at the latest. The "trick" is to submit it as soon as Novel 2 is done its rotation... and thankfully I'm on the cusp of that.
Novel 4 needs a more work, but again, there is time for that still.
Anyway, yeah, birthdays suck, but at least 2018 is shaping up better (professionally) than 2017 did. So that's a start.