So my book finally launched, and I'm in final edits for book 2 of that series. I'm getting good reviews, I'm getting good press, and life is clipping right along.
But it's hard. I mean, it is seriously hard.
The problem seems to be that I need to be rich in order to write and be a writer the way I want to be.
Don't get me wrong - I can write. I can write just about anywhere and under any circumstances (thank you, autism parenting for that skill) but you really do that better when you don't have a day job that suddenly kicked into high gear, and you don't have primary custody of your kids (never thought I'd be grateful for being divorced, but if the kids didn't go to their Dad's every other weekend, I'd get even less done) and you'd definitely do it better if you had a couple of people to handle your social media stuff.
You also need to make sure you have fun and interesting stuff running on your Twitter feed, stuff your readers can relate to to and make them feel like they know you. And don't forget your beautiful Instagram pictures of books! With flowers! Or have a book open on your lap while wearing quirky socks! (Which has honestly been a challenge because I read everything on Kindle, pretty much. Guess I need to get a library card). Thank goodness the author blog feeds out to Goodreads and Tumblr. And I steadfastly refuse to do Pinterest. There are only so many hours in a day.
And then there's this whole "life" thing. You know - paying attention to my kids, spending time with them. Doing laundry and scrubbing bathrooms and cooking meals and cleaning cat barf off the carpets. None of that stops. Damn cats.
Around all of that, I'm supposed to be finishing a book, and coming up with a fabulous bestseller to follow it.
Oy, vey. This is why so many authors struggle. In fact, Salon had an awesome piece about how much easier it is for authors who have funding from something other than a job (like being independently wealthy or having a spouse who pays the bills).
I can assure you, I'd be knocking doors down in the literary world if I didn't have to go to a day job five days a week. If I could afford a maid, and eating out, and had a PR service doing all my social media. I'd settle in every morning after the kids headed out to school with my mug of tea and my laptop, lay down a few thousand words, and then we could spend the evening just hanging and being a family. And cleaning cat barf off the carpet.
Guess you can't have everything.