I’ve been struggling with my roles in life since Christmastime. When I first started this whole indie publishing journey, I thought my goals were very clear cut. Write, publish, and hope that some readers would love my stuff (yes, ‘stuff’ is a weak weasel word, but when those moments of rebellion hit, you just kind of have to go with the flow).
It hit me in December that, for all intents and purposes, I’d ceased to be a writer. Yes, it’s true. But I just released Enza, you might argue. I did, didn’t I? But Enza was seventy-five percent written four years ago. All I did was finish it. Finally.
The rest of my time I’ve spent blogging…and visiting blogs, marketing…and learning about marketing. And while none of those activities are bad, I’ve been neglecting my first love. Almost entirely.
I have two partially finished manuscripts, a third book I need to finish around the first of the year, a sequel to write…and a list of close to thirty other stories I’ve plotted out to some degree…all waiting for me to remember that I am a writer. Waiting for me to give them some of my limited time.
So that’s exactly what I’m going to start doing. I won’t give up the other things, but I am going to devote less time to them. I love blogging, but will be cutting down to twice a week (most weeks). It may get to the point where I cut back to once weekly. I’m not sure yet. I love visiting other blogs…and will continue to do that, too. Everything else will be on an ‘as there is time for it’ basis.
I am a writer!
Therefore I will….write. I will begin breathing life into the people and worlds that only exist in my head right now. Thanks to Jeff Goins for reminding me of what it is I do.
I do not read Stephen King…he scares the heck out of me. But there’s no denying that he’s a talented writer…and full of great writing advice. But you wouldn’t know who Stephen King if had he spent all of his time marketing Carrie.