I recently subscribed to Bookbub so I could keep track of deals and get myself some cheap/free books. I’m just like everyone else – if I can get a freebie or something for 99c, I’m not gonna say ‘no’.
Then I realized as the e-mails flooded in and I scanned the pages on the Bookbub site that there are so many books, I will never be able to read them all. Not that I could before but I was delusional enough to think it was slightly more manageable.
Faced with so many choices about what to read, I was then faced with the choice of how to choose. Like everyone else on the planet, my free time during the day is limited and there’s nothing more disheartening then being half way through a book and realizing several hours of my life have been wasted. I set about trying to decide on my method of selection. Reviews on Amazon? Reviews by The NY Times? The cover? Ratings on GoodReads? Roll some dice?
As I sweated through my first conundrum I had the horrible realization that when I send my work out into the big bad world I will be competing with what can only be described as a tsunami of words. A global tsunami that rolls across continents and swallows cities and mountain ranges. A wave of words so vast that it could fill five Grand Canyons and it would be higher than Mount Everest.
Faced with an instant nervous breakdown I tried to remember why I was doing this. The bottom line is that once upon a time there was a little girl who dreamed of being a writer and seeing her words in print. That was really about it.
So I’m not gonna worry about all the other books out there, or how well they’re doing (or not doing). I’m just going to concentrate on finishing my work. Then I’m going to publish it.
When that happens my ten-year-old self will be thrilled. The dream will be a reality.
Anything after that is a bonus.