Okay, so after going cross-eyed reading a whole lot of information on getting written works published I’ve decided it is what I want after all.
Yes I know. Despite what I said yesterday and all the information about how hard it is to actually accomplish. I want it. I really do want it.
Once I opened myself up to the possibilities I wanted the brass ring. I want to see my words in print on a bookstore shelf. I want to see someone sitting and reading my ideas on paper. Consuming my creation. Dare I say, ‘Enjoying what I have to offer.’
I might even be persuaded to have a small picture on the inside back cover. And if I had to do it to get my stories published? I’d do it. I want this.
I’ll write but I’ll do it under a pen name, pseudonym, non deplume. I like my anonymity far too much. I’m not ready to leave my slow simple life in the woods. Just because someone did something out in the public eye doesn’t mean they want to give up having their own life.
No, I don’t think I’ll be the next J. K. Rowling. Not by a long shot. But while at the checkout at the bookstore, with the Writers Market 2009, I was asked to do a book signing when my first book comes out. I laughed it off but I had a tremble inside at the thought that I would have to come out in public to do such a thing. Not that I wouldn’t sign my books for those that wanted me to. I’d just have to wear a few coats of stage makeup and a wig to hide the real me. So I could have my own life back as soon as the last book cover was closed on my illegible handwriting.
Yes, I know I’m getting way ahead of myself, but knowing how I feel I had to take it into consideration. Is it worth fighting my fears? Absolutely.