Originally posted at Dead Darlings.
I ask myself this question a lot these days in the wake of an election, a year, that left me, and so many others, feeling lopsided. For years, I’ve used writing and reading as a way to cope. Now I’m reaching for words and finding none. I’m staring down the calendar and waiting for the date that my debut novel publishes, and that question keeps coming back to me. Who cares? It’s just another story published on a Tuesday in June. Not political, insightful, timely. Just a story about a small-town, young woman in love with the wrong woman and the consequences that follow.
Much of the pre-publication process is about connecting with the work, easy enough when it’s just you and a computer. Once you get into the marketing and promotion phase, it’s about connecting with an audience. I find it hard to feel that my voice is worthy of being out in the world among so many literary greats and during such a volatile time in our country, because who cares? Continue reading at Dead Darlings →