It’s that time of year again. When KDP sends me an email asking if I want to view my tax forms.
I don’t actually.
I don’t want to know that a book it took me two years to write, edit, and publish is languishing unseen, unsold, and unread. I especially don’t want to know that the three books I’ve written have met the same fate.
Truths I avoid like Covid the rest of the year are ready and waiting for me now. Nice and neat, gift wrapped for me by the Internal Revenue Service.
I don’t have to look. Except, of course, I do. How can I not?
Hope springs eternal for the deluded, a.k.a self-published authors. If it didn’t there wouldn’t be so many of us out there.
The question is how much power do I allow these 1042-S forms to wield? Do I let my lacklustre sales determine whether I finish the book I’m working on now? Do I say, “Hey, I’m no J.K. Rowling. Let’s pack this dream up and call it a day?”
And I would, except for the fact that I’m stubborn or, as I prefer to think of it, determined—to finish this last book. And maybe, just maybe…
Is it just me, or does there seem to be more to be wary of these days?
Scams and schemes abound, from the automated phone calls that threaten you with Revenue Canada if you don’t contact them to the truly horrific bogus kidnapping messages that claim they have your children.
And then there’s the people promising to change your life if you only hand over your wallet.
Case in point, recently I’ve been approached by companies offering to promote one of my books. Sounds good, right?
“You’re book has been recommended to us by …”
“We will flog your book on social media daily …”
I don’t know how much money these companies want because I hang up on them before they get to that point. Am I skeptical?
Hmmm… Am I breathing?
The first solicitor didn’t even know the title of my book. The second one sent me an email that could have used a grammar check.
One caller said his company was based out of Las Vegas. Really?
So many books out there, so many that never get seen let alone read. Every indie author knows this — so do the companies offering to help you.
If I had stopped to button my coat,
If I had skipped class that day?
f I had gone to another library, or another school,
Would I have met you?
If you hadn't worn those pants,
Walked in front of the table where I sat,
If you hadn't said, "Hey."
Would you be at my side now?
Would you be at my side still,
When your hair has thinned,
and mine is grey?
Why you, why me, why us?
A hand to hold against the emptiness?
A shoulder at my side?
A smile that says he knows me?
Laughter in the dark?
I want all of that, I do.
Now, I want the pounding.
Your hands on my hips,
Your body in mine.
I want the slam of us.
I want hard