It’s the first Wednesday of the month.
All things considered, I’ve been fortunate on my journey toward publication. I know this, and I’m grateful. Very grateful. But just because I managed to snag a contract doesn’t mean everything is always roses and sunshine. There’s still a lot to worry about.
Will my launch go smoothly? Will anyone participate or even care about my blog tour? And the big one, of course, will anyone buy my book? Oh yeah, an even bigger one…if they do buy it, will they like it? My long fingernails are pretty much a thing of the past now, chewed down to the nub, bleeding and ragged. But you know, I’ve done all I can. I can only hope and pray for the best.
But still, there is one thing that concerns me. When I finished the first draft of my manuscript, I built myself a platform and started this blog. Most of you have been there and done that. You know how hard it is to start up, build a following, cull new friendships and relationships. I certainly didn’t go into it expecting all that, yet that’s exactly what I got. And I can’t tell you how thrilled I am by that. All the new friendships have enriched my life in ways I can’t even begin to explain. But I can say, it’s all good. And I don’t want to lose it, any of it. That’s one of my greatest fears now, my big insecurity.
You see, I’ve noticed a trend in the blogosphere. Certainly not always, but often enough to be worrisome, once a blogging writer gets their contract and publishes, their readership begins to fall away, their comments diminish. I imagine it’s because the author has less time to traipse about all the blogs and comment. I hope that’s the reason, but I don’t intend to find out.
I will always dedicate a day a two every week to ramble, read, and remark. What good is my platform if no one is standing around to listen? All that work, the time spent writing and roaming, down the drain, and just when I need it the most, too. It’s counterintuitive.
But as much sense as that makes—to keep up my end of the blogging bargain—I’ve heard from several author friends about how they’ve lost not just followers, but real, true friends—or who they thought were friends anyway—to envy and jealousy. I can’t imagine any of my friends or followers succumbing to that. My path has hardly been traditional, and we’re not competing against each other anyway.
But still, it happens. I’ve seen it. And it scares me.
Just as I’ve learned so much from those who’ve come before me, perhaps I can teach a small thing or two to those who come after. It’s part of paying it forward. I just hope there’s still a few around to pay it forward to.