Okay…so I got really down about the struggles of being a
self-published author a few weeks ago and stopped editing the sequel to Broken
Road—just figured, what’s the point?
Since we had already told one of our first readers that she could have a
draft over Spring Break, Mike printed off a copy and gave it to her. But I was
done. Yeah, the characters were still talking to me from time to time, but so
what? It’s a hellavalotta work and just
results in an uphill struggle that can break your freaking heart.
But I have found myself unable to stay away. I know
the characters are not real people, but it seems unfair to leave their lives in
limbo. Little by little, the editing has
resumed. I don’t mean to sound flip, but
I completely understand why writing leads to mass consumption of spirituous liquids. If I imbibed, these two novels would have
done me in by now.
