In an attempt to post more often to my blog without worrying that it “ain’t gonna change the world,” here’s a mini rant/blurt from a writing practice session I did with Nancy Canyon:
I sniff my armpits. My deodorant has failed again from the stress of trying to “indie” publish my second novel while promoting the three books I already have “out there,” books hardly anyone knows exists. A writing pal with time on her hands drops by. She has some suggestions on how to work smarter, not harder.
“Oh,” she says. “Just get 15 good reviews. There are websites that will post interviews with you.”
That’s easy for her to say. She writes fantasy, and you know those readers. They don’t work; they just sit around all day writing book reviews.
Well, let me tell you,” I say, but she’s already out the door, headed for her brand new Prius that’s parked in the driveway behind my old white Toyota pickup with its 237,000 miles on it. And that was before the odometer broke some years back.
And I wonder, How hard could it be to write fantasy instead of regular old books, mostly inspired by my errant choices in life? When I ask google about the difficulty angle, I end up clicking from one excerpt to the next, and orderg eight e-books to complement my research. “I’ll show you smarter.” I read the books to see how it’s done. This takes ten days. Now I think I’ll just change a few details about my life, like the century, locations and names, and I’ll write me some fantasy, too.