Today's author can get buried in "how-to" advice, to the point where she just wants to scream and hide under the covers. Build a website, and don't forget to update regularly. Do a blog -- no, do half a dozen. Make a trailer, put it on U-Tube. Get radio interviews, better yet, do television. Go on tours. Write the sequel. No, do some short stories to get your name out there. Send out postcards. Or bookmarks. How about funny t-shirts?
What happened to my dream of creating entertaining stories, things that draw me to pen and paper or keyboard with the desire to tell about the time, place, and people that dance through my head and become so real that I know what they want for breakfast?
And where's that (quite silly) hope that people would buy my books just because the word is whispered from ear to ear that the stories are pretty good?
Writing requires a split personality: half Pygmalion, half Gantry, and I know for certain which one is not my favorite, even as I plan that U-Tube presence.
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