So, this snuck up on me, like most things do, these days. I knew the anniversary was coming up, but I thought it was four years, not five. I set up the sale (41% in the US, 52% in the UK, Kindle version of Magic Beans), I scheduled all the social media posts, but I was just celebrating the anniversary in general. It was meant to be a sort of farewell to the Covid era that derailed my writing and publishing schedule, not anything special. But then I did the math, and it turns out- hey, did you guys know that it’s 2023 already?? That’s kind of a big deal!
So, five years, huh? How about that. My little baby has been out in the world for a whole five years. And Golden, to be fair, since I published them both on the same day. Amazon will only let me put Magic Beans and/or Siren Song on sale, for some reason, and Siren Song has its own day. Poor Princess Dahna, silenced and overlooked, again.
But Magic Beans is on sale, and you should grab a copy.
What have the last five years been like? Well, I published another book, bringing the Kindle and paperback total to three, and I have four freebies on this website, the combined wordcount equalling at least one more full length novel. I have one more ready to be edited and illustrated, and one more nearly drafted (there’s just one scene I’m being a baby about writing lol). There is also a Beanseller novel underway, and possibly two unrelated projects. So I have not been totally idle.
I have, however, been very bad at marketing, lol. That’s on me. In the early days, I was doing promos and giveaways to drum up buzz. I was posting videos on YouTube and book reviews on the blog. At one point, I had a booth reserved at Archon in St Louis, but Covid hit and the event was tabled.
In 2019, I went to Guatemala to visit family, and did my first book signing. It was for my cousin, but it felt significant. It’s still fun to spot my paperbacks at family’s houses, sometimes in different houses than where I’d dropped them off originally.
At first, Covid was a great time for me. I couldn’t run errands, so I figured out how to automate pretty much every aspect of my life, my social community rallied for each other, and I had nothing but time to read and write and plan. Lockdown was great.
But as we all know, what should have been two weeks turned into the summer turned into a whole year turned into three full years, and it’s not totally over yet, even though the world is covering its eyes and ears and rushing forward. My momentum lasted for about a year, but by 2021, I was spent. I mean, 2021 started off pretty rocky for the whole country. And it’s been pretty much at that level since.
I don’t need to rehash my personal tragedies, they have their own blog posts. And I wanted this post to be reflective and celebratory, more than wallowing in the mire.
So what was there to learn? Well, the most important thing is how easy it is to accomplish some dreams. I think a lot of people, myself included, equate importance with difficulty; if you want something really badly, it must be hard work. Don’t get me wrong- writing, editing, formatting, marketing, it’s all hard; but not prohibitively hard. Once you get going, you just do it. Each step leads to the next, and before you know it, your book is live on Amazon. The hardest part is getting started. There is no need to wait for the right time or for all the pieces to fall into place. Just do it.
The second thing is that community is absolutely essential. Yes, of course you can do it alone. That’s the beauty of self-publishing, right? But you don’t have to, and you shouldn’t. Farm out every aspect of your project. Keep your critiquers, betas, and advanced readers separate, bring in your editor at the absolute end. Take all feedback, act on just what feels right. If you need help formatting or illustrating, ask your friends for references. My illustrator is a friend of a friend, and I might work with another friend on a future project. Creatives need community for support, but also there is a ripple effect: you ask two creatives and they’ll ask two creatives, and on and out. Plus, every person you involve comes with their own market. I got some pictures for the Siren Song cover from a merman friend, and some of his loved ones bought the book because he was on it. I shouted him and his photographer husband out, and they both get to add publishing to their portfolio. Everybody scratches everybody’s backs.
This also applies to followers. I gained a number of followers very early on, and I have a handful of very dedicated fans. I don’t know if they’ve read my books, or even bought them, but they comment on most things I post, and we’ve had conversations about literature, culture, current events, etc. The audience is just as important as the people who helped you get to them. They are a part of the community, not just the customers. They are the ones all of this is for, after all. Don’t forget about them.
The last thing I learned, I learned recently. Shit will happen, bad shit, and it might not stop. You’re not going to feel creative all the time. Sometimes, you’ll just want to throw your hands up and pack it all in. That is normal and natural. Creativity is a mercurial beast. But falling out of practice doesn’t make you less of a creative. It’s important not to crush it. Don’t force it. Siren Song is the third book in what I want to be an eleven-book series. Book Four is nowhere near ready for outside eyes. But I couldn’t face it. Untangling the knots, restructuring, reworking the outline and scrapping scenes I struggled to drag out of myself already feels impossible. Maybe it is. So I pivoted. I worked for a time as an academic ghostwriter, I wrote some Northanger Abbey fanfiction, I wrote a D&D campaign that I’ve been thinking about since high school. On a less uplifting note, I made peace with DNF-ing books I’m not enjoying, and that relieves a lot of stress on a slow reader like me.
Part of my stress, I think, comes from my publication schedule. I wanted to put a new book out every two years, and Siren Song hit the mark. But Covid, yada yada, you know. And now we’re at three years, and Book 4 is still a jumble of disconnected scenes and like four different outlines.
But when I really zoom out to look at it, the one-book-every-two-years thing isn’t really what happened. I started Magic Beans in 2014. I started Siren Song in 2015 or 2016. That’s actually four years, prompt to publication. Now, sure, I probably started Book Four in 2017 or so, which still makes me late, but it’s a less scary lateness. Which is another lesson- you’re probably not failing as hard as you think you are.
Basically, don’t assume something is hard just because it’s important, lean on your circle, and do what you can do. None of this needs to be torture, it’s not that heavy. Focus, hard work, determination, yes. Suffering, no. Zoom out and get perspective, you’re probably fine.
So, that’s the last five years. I think I’m starting to climb out of my depression hole again. A lot of clouds are parting, different ones than I expected. I have a great day job that I never dreamed I’d get a chance to have, and it might offer me some future opportunities I never would could have imagined. It won’t take the place of writing, nothing ever will, but if I could have my dream job AND my next best dream job, well, I call that a win. Some health issues might be sorting themselves out, some mental health things might be levelling, my relationships are doing well, I got a new furry co-author. Recently, I critiqued an amazing book for a friend, and since critiquing used to be part of the day-to-day business of writing, it kinda felt like tiptoeing back into the swing. Plus, critiquing makes you think about how you would handle certain situations, and that is always a slippery slope back into the writing chair.
I think it’s good. I’m not ok, not by a long margin, but I think I’m getting there. I’m getting to a different ok. And I know Alois and Sulat are there, waiting for me to join them on their next adventure.
Avon Van Hassel 