Some musings on this week. The following is from my comments in my reading group on Facebook:
There are times when I have to take a step back from the dreamy world of romance and feel the pain of the news. What happened yesterday [in Oregon] has rocked me. I don't know how I can worry about my release or my new listing on KU...because innocent people were shot.
So I haven't been.
Yes, it my business, and of course, I'm serious. But it's [the same way] I feel about programmed tweets or posts. I can't deal because when terrible things happen, [the tweets] seem so insignificant.
This is the 15th mass shooting since President Obama has taken office.
I applaud the authorities for not giving this man the notoriety he wanted.
Opening fire on innocent victims is not a way to get notoriety.
So it comes full circle because as authors we worry ourselves silly about becoming popular/making a list...but at the end of the end of the day...it's about making people happy.
And if I make 2 readers happy, my job is done.
A wash of melancholy has swept over me in light of this entire week.
Before I was a writer, I was a reader.
Many of us have started out that way...after all, we didn't come out of the womb writing. We went to school and learned to read and write. Back in the stone age, when I grew up, I would go to the library once a week with my grandmother and ask the librarian for recommendations. Then, I would haul home my pile of books and make my way through the monstrosity. I will admit, I tried my hand at short stories and dramatic tales even back then.
Later on in high school and college, I devoured mass fiction. I think John Grisham's THE FIRM was the first trade paperback I tore through, and then it was all over. I went through stacks and stacks of books, either from the library or the bookstore––both places I loved to visit.
When I had babies, I took a hiatus from reading anything longer than a blog or a magazine article. My eyes were always too tired or hazy. Then one day, I got way back into reading.
I also started writing again, non-fiction, lifestyle pieces and columns all over the web. I had a blog and blogged often. I loved it. Then Twilight and Fifty erupted and my genre of choice was everywhere, I was invited to Katie Couric (that's a story for another day). I didn't go to the library or bookstore much anymore, I one-clicked.
And I did it a lot. A LOT.
I came across blogs. Maryse was one of the first. I realized I went to high school with the founder of Smart Bitches. Mostly, I relied on my friend Jill and Sarah to send recs. Oh, and my friend Rachel. I made my way through virtual stacks of books, and then I wrote one.
I just slapped that puppy up in the internet, made a big announcement on Facebook, and tweeted all about it. It sold. I couldn't believe it. People loved it. They hated it. I ate up good reviews and survived the bad ones. I wrote more books, five in the span of a year and a half.
With each release, I became more calculated, targeted blogs and readers and debated release price, Kindle Unlimited vs Not, and subscribed to this person's or that guy's advice.
After each release, I second-guessed each decision and wished to go back to my first release when I just slapped that bad boy up there.
This past week was a release week for me. Yep, I'm going through the motions, wondering, second-guessing, fearing my book will be old news by next Wednesday.
So, mostly I'm just drained and fatigued from emotion.
And always grateful for those who support me.
I currently have five titles out, and I want to meet new readers and have them meet me. I find it crazy that a book would fall into the abyss so quickly because there is nothing better than a book. Ebook or not, words on a page are a golden egg, and they allow us to escape the harsh realities of what is today.
Love you all, R
If you KU, Vérite is now available there -
The Crossroads Series and The Electric Tunnel Series are both available at multiple outlets.