You didn’t know if it was happening.
Well, it’s happening.
It’s mostly written, surprisingly. Just gotta do some proofreading, and, as always, add even more love triangles.
No firm release date yet, other than JULY 2015.
So I have a book that’s coming out soon (Iris: Queen of the Partially Redeemed). I’m going to pick the release date in the next 2-3 days and it will be sometime between January 16 and 31st.
But I don’t want to release it.
Not because I don’t think it’s any good; if I didn’t like it I wouldn’t have written it (hence my recent lack of clown-narrated murder mysteries set in Saskatoon). It’s because I don’t feel like going through the let-down lifecycle of the new release.
1. Writing Phase: Writer self-motivates not just by enjoyment of storytelling, but visualizations of success, fame, and riches based on the release of Book Two from a little-known series.
2. Pre-release Phase: Book is completed (minus final polishing that will occur until at least a full week after it’s released), and while there are a few butterflies clawing away at the writer’s stomach lining, those visualizations are still showing up, if slightly less unrealistic (not success, but maybe not complete failure).
3. Release Day: Crap. Crap. Crap. Are the sales reports lagging? Is the “Buy Now” button broken?
4. First Review (let’s assume it’s pretty good): Phew. But why is no one buying?
5. Second Review (scathing): Writer wants to fake own death, maybe something involving a radio telescope and a big bag of rotting onions.
6. The Nothing Phase: Writer wonders when someone will take notice of the book, but worries about the day when someone actually does.
I like writing, and I do believe in what I’m writing (and accept that by their very nature, people closest to you will be wary of every creative thing you do). I’m in it for the long run, knowing that in the end of all of this, I will have had tens of thousands of readers, and some of those readers will have enjoyed what I do enough to be sad once I’ve told my last story.
But I wish there was a way to just throw these books into a vacuum tube on release day, and let some other Regan deal with the fact that a big name like Denzel Washington signed on for some other guy’s post-apocalyptic book-turned-movie. (Personally, I still envision Giancarlo Esposito as Baptiste, so maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.)
So, in essence, I want to write, and have plenty of readers, but I want to never have a bad day. Is that too much to ask?
So I’ve been gone for two weeks on vacation, visiting such far-flung (for me) locations as Wisconsin Dells, New York City, and a surprisingly large portion of the Chicago O’Hare Airport.
And like all vacations that begin with the hope of “a whole bunch of writing gettin’ done”, I did nothing.
Well, maybe not nothing, since my upcoming near-future science fiction series is set partly in NYC (interspersed with the rocket and space bits), so any time there is officially research. Obviously I need to know what an egg cream tastes like, or just how much food you can buy in Chinatown for seven bucks.
So you’re welcome.
This might be my only shot at this. As someone who wrote maybe 2% of SF Signal posts, I feel that I can almost call myself a Hugo Award-winning author. By almost, I mean not really, but let’s go with it. So I present to you: Regan Wolfrom, the Hugo Award-winning (*cough*) author.
But for some reason the real winners at SF Signal won’t even let me polish the trophy. You steal one set of steak knives from John DeNardo’s place and you’re marked for life.
Congratulations to the other (i.e., real) winners!