Well, I have started novel number 9, despite some push-back from my mom (who begged me not to write another book) and skepticism tinged with financial concern from several other members of my family.
I mean, they’re not wrong. Each of these novels costs me a fortune (a small one, but considering my financial level, a small fortune is more than I have) to edit, and the response has been… warm, sure (I get good reviews, I have semi-consistent sales), but certainly not viable.
Trouble is that I don’t know what else to do. Nobody will hire me on my own merits (questionable as they are), so I scrape by, day to day, begging for enough to get me through to the next novel. Maybe the novel after that.
If you can do anything else with your life, do that. If you can’t do anything else, write.
There is some venom in those words, but the heart behind them I think is true. I don’t think I can do anything else with my life. I’m a storyteller at heart, and I have been since I’ve been a child. I keep trying to find ways to tell stories and not starve to death… haven’t found it yet, but going to keep trying.
Anyway. Enough doom and gloom. I got a 5-star review on the new novel (yay!), and I’m cautiously optimistic about the next novel. I have a good feeling about it, despite it being in the pre-planning stage.
Hope everyone out there is staying safe and healthy!