The owner of Red Rose Publishing told me first-week totals of The Coach's Counselor . . . they definitely overshot my expectations. So I thank you for buying the story, and tell others to get their copy. It's a dope story. Bernie is a dreamboat. I wanna be Eunice when I growed up. The RRP's owner loves the story. Can't get much better than that, peoples. Buy! Buy! Buy!
In less enthusiastic news, Sunday morning I awoke to a lovely (this is not sarcasm) rejection letter from an agent regarding Reconstructing Jada Channing. Was I disappointed? Absolutely, because my pitch to her had gone really well and she'd seemed exciting about it; and to know months later the project with her is a no-go does smart.
But then, I realized there is this lovely thing called self-publishing, and my straits weren't as dire as they'd seemed upon reading the e-mail. TPtB at HBF Publishers have it, and even if that doesn't work out, I can still put it out on my own. RJC doesn't have to languish until someone puts her seal of approval on it--I could publish the novel whenever I want, really. And considering it's my baby . . . I probably SHOULD publish it myself instead of risking a publisher/agent culling it out to "make it more marketable" (which sometimes, from what I've been told, could be a struggle between the author's original vision and the publisher's vision, and with this story in particular . . . there is a specific vision I have in mind for it). And if I really play my cards right, should I be picked up by an agent, and they do a reprint . . . the value of the first edition will be exceedingly high, right?
Or that's what I'd heard. Sotheby's, here I come!
(A girl can dream, can't she?)
It's a strategic game, this publishing business. I'm taking the bull by the horns, yes, but I also can't wait for the day until I can relinquish them and concentrate on the part of this business I want the most--the writing. Another idea has come and bit me, and one sentence on a Post It has grown into something that's taken me hours of research, so many "restarts" that I don't remember. And this isn't counting all the WiPs that are waiting for their day in the sun. I'm in that period of the job that sustains me is impeding on the career that feeds me. NOT a good feeling, because I actually like my "able-to-live" job, but this WRITING, people. This is what I'm supposed to do. And it's scary to be good at other things . . . have a greater chance at success at those others things . . . but those other things are in the way of THE THING.
Options. Sometimes I don't know if it's better to have too many or not enough.