I've had several good friends tell me lately what an idiot I am.
The publishing world is not what it once was. I hold no illusions about being a world-famous author, but that shouldn't be my goal. It shouldn't have ever been my goal. Don't we write to tell stories? Who of us gets to make it rich in this racket?
Some people like what I write. I'm not a world beater. I'm not for everyone. But I do think I tell nice stories. Some of them funny, some of them bizarre, some of them from the heart. I don't write to a genre, although some of my stories are written in a particular genre.
So I've decided to push forward . . . as my own publisher. There's really nothing to lose, if I've already thrown in the towel. If no one reads me, or critics say my work is crap, I'm no worse off than I am now.
This fall, look for my first collection of short stories on Smashwords and Kindle. Shortly after that, I will publish my first YA novel, and then my first adult novel. If I'm inspired to continue, I plan on putting my second adult novel and second in the YA series out maybe by this time next year.
Thanks for your support and encouragement.