Being an author is lonely. From the outside, we may seem like we have our shit together, we have friends, families, and lead exciting lives but in reality, we spend way too much time on a computer/phone/tablet. House work gets behind, the kids eat nothing but apple sauce and granola bars all day and never seem to have pants on. Okay, maybe that’s just me.
But we spend so much time, energy, and money to market our books. Making sure that our blurbs are on point, our covers stand out but fit in, doing take overs, blog tours, and interacting with readers and authors alike so that someone will notice us. Selling yourself, your product, is exhausting, terrifying, and expensive. We are constantly learning better ways to promote our work, build anticipation for the next release, run ads, spend more money and when it doesn’t work, reach out to other authors to see if they can give us some insight. Then, those authors that are suppose to be there to help and support each other, tear us down, make it sound like we shouldn’t be writers. Like we’re stupid, incompetent. We feel like we should give up.
But you know what? We refuse to give up. We will tear our books apart to perfect them, we recover books, re-write blurbs, add content, until finally something works.