I’ve finished my book. And now, the work begins.
Or so I’m told. I am officially entering the realm of “I know nothing about anything”, so who knows? Perhaps I will be one of those blessed writers who find the business side of things exciting and enjoyable.
I doubt it though. Not that I’m a pessimist, but everything does tend to go wrong. I’ve heard scary words like “networking” and “contacts”, and as a being who is not adept at connecting with other beings…that doesn’t seem to bode well.
But I’m game, mostly because I apparently have to be? I thought a good start would be to blog some. Get me used to talking with the outside world more, even if that “outside world” is probably imaginary and the “talking” is just more writing. To myself.
I don’t mind that. I don’t mind writing more, certainly, and I don’t mind writing to myself at all. And if people started to read this writing I would not mind that either, I don’t think.
Ok I lied, that would be scary. My heart rate just shot up 24% from thinking about it. And I just spent entirely too long looking at that number and wondering if I should change it to a more sensible 25%, or a more quirky 23%, because if PEOPLE ARE LOOKING it has to be right…right?
Anyway.
I’m a mess, but probably every writer is a mess, I hope.
And that seems like a start, at any rate.
