Pulling Up My Big-Girl Panties

Sometimes this writing thing is hard. I don't want it to be. I mean, I like writing, I like revising, I like editing. I don't lurve blogging, but I don't hate it either. So why can't it be as simple as writing a book, editing the hell out of it and putting it out there. You know, so I can move on and write another book?

I've been giving a lot of thought to self-publishing lately. I know quite a few people who have or are doing it and they're happy. They seem to be doing well. But I follow some of them on Twitter and it feels like all they ever do is promo.

Promotion is the single most dreaded part of being an author for me. I hate going up to people and saying "buy my book" or even "this is my book and it got a really great review from ______." I suck at that stuff, and I have ever since I was little. When I was a girl scout I was lucky if I hit the 50 cookies badge every year. And those were GIRL SCOUT COOKIES. Those things practically sell themselves!

So, I look at self-publishing and as much as I think some of my books would do as well (even with my crappy sales skillset), I'm leery of branching out in that direction. But... that means sitting on things I'd like to see out in the world. It means trying to decide what to do with some of my work at all.

This is not a pity party. I have it better than a lot of writers out there. Between this me and the other me, I have quite a few stories out. I have publishers who I like working with and who like working with me. But not everyone publishes YA (sad sad fact of life), and not all publishers who do YA do it well. Plus, all my YA stuff is novel-length which means it takes more work than shorter pieces. So, I can't put everything out when I want to. And, right now I know it's making some people not happy with me.

There's stuff sitting on my hard drive right now that I need to make some decisions on. Self-pubbing is one option. There are others. All of them are a little scary. But eventually I have to do something because even letting them collect dust is me making a choice. It's just the chicken's choice. So, I'm pulling up my big girl panties (because one should never fight demons in any other kind of panties) and staring down my options. Hopefully it won't be as hard a decision as I'm worried it will be. But I want to thank each and every one of you who has been patient (and those of you who have been less so). You're the reasons I'm staring down my demons at all. You're the ones who make the fight worth it. So thanks.

Now where did I put my sword?