I am a fraud. I hope that isn’t true, but I’m beginning to feel if it may be. Let me explain; I have published (self-published) five books, since 2010. Two books of poems, one science fiction novel and two science fiction short stories. The thing is; the poems in my book, I wrote most of them in the 90s and again when I my mother passed away in 2000. The novel, I started writing way back in the 90s and finished it in 2010. It had been collecting dust until this year.
As for the short stories, yes, written back in the 90s. So, I can say that I really haven’t written anything in the last 14 years or so. I am a fraud. I just finished all of those stories in the past few years.
I have been working on my fictional auto-biography, again, since the 90s and I finished, part one, two years ago. It is supposed to be a six part story, but if I can get 3 novels out if it, I will call myself lucky. However, those were re-writes and more re-writes. It now the story languishes over there on my desk. I should get someone to dust this place because my novel is filled with dust.
On the other hand, now that I think about it, I did manage to write 39,000 words for part two of the series. That happened during the NaNoWriMo, the National November Writing Month, back in 2012. I am still debating on combining the first two books, which would give me over 100,000 words. A serious thought.
Since 2012, I have started several short stories, and three novels that, for some strange reason, I can’t seem to get into. One story I really like; I have written 20 pages and just got stuck. I have no idea what to put down on paper, or what direction to head. It’s the same with the other two. As for my third book of poems, Haiku’s, I have to wait until fall to find things that represent autumn, and I need at least 300 haiku’s, half-way there. I am beginning to think I am a fraud.
But, I digress. I am guessing my lapses in writing isn’t about writer’s block, which is driving me bonkers, but more about the business of writing. Some thirty years ago, I started at Wayne State University, working towards a degree in Journalism, and I really enjoyed the leg work, reporting and stuff. However, I had a few fiction stories in me that I really wanted to get out.
So, I started writing the fiction. Anyway, moving back to the future, I have realized one thing that has stopped me in my tracks and I am not sure if it is writer’s block, but for the fact, putting those books into the market has stymied me.
I put my heart and soul into writing my “babies”. I had no idea of the wisdom needed, in regard, to marketing. Even though I took a marketing class, way back when, just one class, though.
Nevertheless, in these four short years, I have only sold seven of my novels. On the other hand, when I first wrote my first book of poems, My Mother’s Garden, I sold 50 right away, mostly to close friends and family.
Looking back, someone asked me the other day, what was my goal was, in regard, to writing. I honestly couldn’t answer that simple question. I quit medical school to become a writer, (I never got in but I finished two years of pre-med with flying colors.). I was a dreamer, as a youngster, and loved science fiction and I couldn’t get enough. I truly wanted to write about it.
But, what is my goal? Fame, prestige, money? Sure, if I was 20 years old right now. I am beyond those years though. It wouldn’t hurt to make a few bucks, all the same. It’s funny, since I retired eight years ago I have had nothing but time on my hands. Writing is a business, and I have plenty to learn.
I want to say; not selling is depressing and hurts a tiny bit. Then again, I get it. I have more to learn, more to read, and I am not stopping now. I have more stories to tell.
Writer’s block, or am I a fraud? I hate to think I am the latter. I haven’t written anything in the last two week and I had to force myself to sit here and write this, I ran out of beer and that would have made it easier to write.