Putting it all together.

Wow.  I just feel completely dried up as far as blog posts go.

So, rather than write no blog post, I’ll just write a lame blog post!  A braggy post to build myself up.  It feels @#$%^&* weird.

The last six months have been a transition from “writer” to “pro writer,” which is something that, subconsciously, I never believed I would hit.  So just feeling like this is an unexpected milestone.  Other people have believed in me, but this is the first time I’ve believed in myself, as far as writing goes.

It’s been made up of mini-milestones.

May 19, 2010 (I know, more than six months) – Quit job, started as freelancer.

September 2010 – first started pulling in regular work as a freelancer.

October 2010 – first semi-pro published story, in Three-Lobed Burning Eye.

November 2010 – wrote about 110K, mainly made out of 5K chunks with a few days off, felt uncomfortable when I broke that rhythm

January 2011 – almost broke even for the first time. Published second semi-pro story, in Silverthought Online.

February 2011 – posted first e-story, “A Fly in Amber.”

March 2011 – honorable mention in Best Horror of the Year, Vol. 3.  Went to DWS/KKR marketing workshop.  That was the kicker, and I don’t know how to thank them.  Roses?  I’m not having any more kids so don’t expect any Deans or Krises at my house.

April 2011 – started small press, Wonderland Press.  Cranking out stories (there’s a new one up today).  Back in the undeniable rush of writing my own fiction.  Plotted out writing and publishing schedules (this feels very good).  Looking at minuscule but slightly-higher-than-hoped-for sales already (I have LOW expectations.)  Going to talk at PPWC at the end of the month.

This, on top of 10 years being a poet, and another 13 years building up my fiction skills (I screwed around a lot).  Fourteen books, two novellas, maybe fifty-some stories.  Like I said, I screwed around a lot, if that’s all I got done in thirteen years of writing…I didn’t really get serious about it until 2003 or so, when Ray was a wee one.  I started out with the commitment to write 100 whole words a day.  And didn’t make it, a lot of the time.  I look back at all the time I pissed away and have to laugh.

So.  It’ll probably be another ten years, if I can hack it, before I have any name recognition, another ten years before I can afford to start thinking about giving Lee the modest slackerdom that he deserves (hey.  I get to define my own success, dammit).  But this is the month where I labeled myself a pro writer.

Now, ask me tomorrow, and something will hit me up the side of the head, and I’ll be a failure again.  But that’s tomorrow.