My inner reader put one over on my inner writer.
“I hate waiting for the next book in the series.” She whined. “You have them all written, make them a week apart. You’ll readers will love you for it!
My inner writer, who really, really wants people to like her. Who, incidentally also has an inferiority complex that makes her want to throw all her books and people at once, and then run and hide. Well, maybe she occasionally, peaks around the corner to see their reactions… okay, maybe she’s also haunting her Kindle Reports watching as pages get read and waiting for the next person to start reading. Pretty Please?
Seriously, you stopped at page sixteen. Why’d you stop? Was you’re break over? You know you can read in the bathroom don’t you? Why did you stop? Don’t you like my book? *Whimper*
The above statement pretty much indicates my last two weeks in a nutshell… emphasis on nut.
This all while frantically doing the final edits and formatting on the remaining books in the series. Seven day intervals, even when you’re done writing the series, is still cutting it close. Especially if you have a life extending past the door to your office. (thanks for the advice, inner reader)
Books one to three are up. Book four is about to go into the queue at Amazon. Book 5 is on the edit/formatting block. Book six, is waiting in the wings whining. “When is it gonna be my turn. I hate being last.”
#lifeofawriter #innerchaos yet, still a #feelingofaccomplishment
Look Ma, I did books.
Err no, just look.
You might not want to read them, they have *whispers* s-e-x.