Cocky
Cocky. That's the only word I can think to describe myself back in August when I finished the first draft of Acorn. I listened to way too many podcasts about people churning out two, four, six books a year. I wrote 30,000 words in 30 days and felt invincible. Of course I should make a website and start promoting myself. The idea of finishing two more books in a year felt like no big deal.
Well, here I am, nine months later with 40,000 words of Sapling under my belt, feeling like an idiot. At this pace I will be lucky to finish my second book by August. Any chance of finishing all three has long past.
But you know what? I'm okay with it. Even though I'm self-publishing, my intent is still to write the best books that I am capable of. My goal here isn't money. It's to fulfill a lifelong dream of becoming an author. I probably should have kept my mouth shut and my head down while doing that, but I didn't. Oh well. I'm learning.
