It has only been ten months since Ellen’s Tale, my first novel, went into print and just over the year since I decided I was going to self publish. Such a lot seems to have happened since then and my poor brain, who had looked forward to an easy life of gentle gardening and book groups when retirement came around, has had to pick itself up and learn a whole raft of new skills. Poor thing!
It has been hard graft, anxiety ridden, frustrating and such fun I could feel like a kid again if it wasn’t for the mirror and the old creaking joints giving me the lie on that. I hope to chart the course I took and the problems that arose and maybe others will find the posts helpful and I hope not too discouraging. Some of the blogs have seen light of day elsewhere, I resurrect them so that the steps follow each other. There is no fortune hidden off shore, yet! That was the first lesson I kept reading about as I researched this new world, nothing happens over night.
So how did it start that I was even thinking of Self publishing?
A few years ago I joined a local writing class run by a great teacher, Emily. Impossibly young, erudite, clever and supportive – she enthused me with great creativity at a time in my life when events seemed a little dire and dreary. She set us exercises to write in class and longer ones to attempt at home. A problem I have always had is verbosity. I envy those who can write flash fiction. I used to have trouble composing telegrams for the same reason. Even when every word cost actual cash I had problems. That summer during the break I planned to try and master the art of short story writing. Of pruning my ever-burgeoning texts into short, snappy sound bites! Oh yeah! Right!