July's Too Close, Guys (Oh, and Here's a Cover)

I had a moment this weekend.

There I was, outside enjoying the first glimpses of Spring, making notes for the revision I'm about to start, when it hit me:

I'm doing this thing.

I haven't formally announced it yet, but most people in my life know: I've decided to self-publish. And my first book, Something So Sweet, will hit digital bookshelves on July 1st.

THIS July 1st.

Am I freaking out?

Hell yes.

Am I still going to do it?

Hell yes.

It's so crazy to me. Three, maybe four, years ago, I couldn't have imagined being here. My world was so much smaller then. My dreams seemed impossible, illogical. Just plain silly.

A lot of things have happened since then, and I couldn't be more grateful for every one of them. If I hadn't gone through the lowest lowest and the highest highs of my life, I would not be here now. About to publish my first novel.

Guys.

Can you believe it?

With the release a couple months away, I'm thinking I want to share something with you: the official cover of Something So Sweet.

You ready?

Here it is:

SHE'S A DREAMER STUCK IN A RUT

Big dreams. Tierney Chandler had 'em. Why else would she leave her small town--and her picture perfect fiancé--behind? Nine years later, the town's still small, her dreams are mostly still dreams, and her still-perfect ex is interested. Maybe she should ditch her daydreams and pick up right where she left off…

HE'S A DREAMER STUCK ON HER

Jack Elliott is a baker, making his dreams come true one golden, flaky pie crust at a time. Years ago, he lost out on his chance with Tierney, but now she's back--and he's determined not to let his annoyingly perfect cousin swoop in and steal her away. Again.

TOGETHER, THEY CAN MAKE NEW DREAMS COME TRUE

With a little magic potpie, some stellar kisses, and a heaping helping of blue-eyed charm, maybe--just maybe--Jack can convince Tierney that he's the dream she's been waiting for.

This book...this is the book I've been trying to write for years. And years and years and years. It's been through so many changes, from plot lines to character names to settings, but at its core, it's always been a story about dreams. Letting go of old ones and chasing down new ones. Something that I relate to now more than I ever have before.

I love these characters and this world so, so much. And I'm both terrified and thrilled to share it with you guys.

July.

Shit.

That's not too far away, is it?

IWSG: Publishing Paranoia

The first Wednesday of every month is reserved for Insecure Writers Support Group (unless I forget). In these posts, I write about my insecurities as a writer. Make sure to check out all the wonderful bloggers participating!

These days, the number of insecurities I have as a writer is lower than it's ever been. I'm confident in my stories and the way I tell them. I believe in these books, in these characters, and I love the ever-loving shit out of them.

That doesn't mean there aren't things that still scare me.

Publishing, for instance.

I've made the terrifying and exciting decision to self-publish. I'm taking the rest of this year to polish the three books in my first series, and then off I go.

There was a lot of back and forth that went into this decision. And though I now feel this is the absolute right thing for me and my books, I'm still wrought with insecurities.

Mostly, its the whole, "Everything is my responsibility so if I fail then I have no one to blame but myself, and also what if no one likes my books and they think my characters are stupid and my doin' it scenes are awkward and my dialogue is stilted and unrealistic and..." thing.

I could keep going, but I'll leave it at that relatively small list of things that are running through my head.

I'm sure traditionally published authors experience a lot of these same insecurities. You spend months and months and years slaving over these books, falling in love with these characters, laughing with them, crying with them, and then...then, you let them go. You put them out into the world and you hope that people love them as much as you do.

Someone won't though. Maybe lots of someones. And there's nothing you can do about it.

It's like birthing a baby, and of course you think it's the most beautiful baby in the whole damn universe, but someone is bound to tell you that your baby is ugly.

I don't want anyone to think my babies are ugly.

So, what about ya'll? Those of you that are published, both traditionally and self, how do you deal with these insecurities? Any tips for that inevitable moment when someone doesn't like your book? I'm freaking out over here!

Owning It

            A person can spend their entire life trying to figure out where they belong, what their purpose is, what they should be doing with the blink of time they’re given on this planet. Most people, I think, don’t ever find the answers.

            I’ve spent a lot of time being uncertain, being told that my writing was a “dream,” and a silly one at that. That the odds are not in my favor. That I should focus my energy on something “logical,” something “real.” And, for a while there, I listened.

            My life has shifted a lot in the last couple years. It’s morphed into something I don’t even recognize most days. The person I am now, I firmly believe, would punch the person I used to be right in the face and tell her to stop being such a chicken shit. And that is an amazing thing to realize.

            Along with those changes came a confidence I’d never had before. A confidence that the purpose I’d convinced myself was stupid for years was, in fact, the thing I should be doing with my life.

Charming, racy, funny, snarky.

            That realization was confirmed this weekend when I was fortunate enough to be in the company of over a hundred people with the same passion as me: writing.

The Capital CityWriters Association put on one hell of a show with their annual Write on theRed Cedar conference. And, with each hour that passed surrounded by so much fire and passion and support, I realized: this is where I belong. This is what I’m supposed to be doing.

            I’m a writer, goddammit.

            Man, that felt good to say.