Here I sit, at my usual table at Barnes and Noble, trying to figure out the ending to my latest book (a follow up to Where Have All the Elves Gone? I am lovingly calling One of Our Elves is Missing) and certain facts have hit me.
There are two truths I have come to accept- must accept if I am to get any better in this game. One, I am not a fast writer. I saw a post today from a guy who wrote over 750k words this year. WHOA! I barely banged out 200k and felt taxed from it. Oh, there was a time I was writing 3 books a year, all of which were over 100k words, but damn. 750 THOUSAND words. I don’t think I could do that if I wanted to.
I write slow, methodical, and put in plenty of time for laziness. I know, I know, but it’s an admission I need to make if you are going to understand the process. This exploration of myself eventually led to a second, more debilitating truth.
I am still treating this like a hobby, or a part-time gig instead of a full time job. For a time I lost the love of writing. It became work and I’m still afraid of it returning. The words flow smooth enough now and I want to keep it up for years to come. (This coming year I am releasing SIX books).
The only way to improve is by treating this like a full time operation. So here we go. 2021 is in the review mirror and I am ready to launch a full scale invasion on readers and bookstores in 2022. Who’s coming with?