I couldn't wait any longer for edits. My beta reader was just too busy and it just seemed silly.
This is a small and short story- I don't expect it to sell many copies and I just needed to psychologically get past it.
And it's funny because the novel-length series that I'm working on is also kind of odd. But I just like it. I can't explain it but... no, I love it. It's such a fun story to me.
The elements are all wrong though so it's just not going to have wide appeal.
And I just have to do it anyway.
And it's going to be 3 stories at least. But dang it, it's getting completed and edited and freaking published.
All this to say: I published the short story... and I'm trying to re-focus on getting novel 1 edited.
I'm hopeful that eventually I'll write a story that will fit genre expectations and this will just be some interesting/strange backlist.
I didn't set out to write stuff that didn't fit. But it just doesn't.
And now I can't turn my back on it.
I must give it a place, complete it, and move on.
It deserves that since it's been percolating for 15-20 years... something like that... something horrible like that.
And I'm published.
Let my family know and... [drumroll please]...
I sold one copy to my sister. ...yay...???
Oh well. They always say your family is not going to read it. But I kind of figured they'd pony up the $1 just to own it, for the sake of owning it.
Live, learn, move on. [insert sad but resigned face here]
P.S. By the way, this means I'm actually published now. For Realz.
