Just in case you were looking for some sort of professional author with a slick look and fashionable turn out who’s eloquent and interesting, I hate to tell you.
It’s just me.
I’m not good at the whole social media presence. I’m not well-dressed. I’m not cute. (Okay, maybe I’m cute, but in a scruffy tom-boy kinda way, not in a put-together, nice lipstick kinda way.)
I don’t do well with schedules. I don’t do the rapid-release thing. I don’t post blogs or pics on my Facebook regularly, just sort of when I think to. I don’t release books on anything like a schedule. I’m a bit of a mess.
I swear. Except when I don’t. I complain a lot. I get judgy. I try not to, but I think I’m kind of funny when I do, so I don’t try hard to quit.
I think I’m funny. Maybe even when I’m not. And I just plow forward with my jokes, even when no one else is laughing.
I’m not professional. I try to be, but I never fit in that manilla envelope. I try to make my stories the best they can be, and I try not to be mean to the people around me, but sometimes I fail and don’t realize it. And being a decent storyteller and not a mean person isn’t exactly “professional.”
I’m a goofball who can’t help sticking her tongue out at cameras pointed her way. My sister doesn’t own a single picture of me that isn’t of me making some sort of weird face.
I think part of that is trying to cram all my book business stuff into a life that already includes a nearly full-time job, a part-time job, and running a small tarot-reading business besides. I’m busy as hell. I just don’t always have a ton of time to devote to the books, or the business side of the books. I’m hoping the books continue to grow, so I can start dropping other jobs and devote more time to them. Of all the things I do, I love the books the most, and they pay me the least. Of course.
I think part of that is just me and who I am. I’m not great with schedules. I fight not to be late to everything I do, from the day job to the tarot readings to coffee with friends. More often than not, I fail.
“Professional” would not describe me. I can sort of be professional, when I need to be, but not very well.
Better words to describe me would be “bohemian,” “scruffy,” “weird,” or “off-beat.” I’ve just never fit a mold. At all. Even bohemians look at me askance when I try to hang with them. I’m a little too straight for them. But I’m way too boho for the normals.
I’m doing my best. I’m trying to have an online presence, and I’m trying to be accessible to people who want to talk to me. I love hearing from people who like what I do. I love what I do, why wouldn’t I want to hear from folks who like it, too?
I guess I’m writing this partly as an explanation, and partly because I’m feeling a little intimidated by some of the other authors I’m following. They’re just so . . . put together. Cute logos and shiny Youtube videos and professionally voiced audiobooks and podcasts. And then there’s me. Running late, dressed in ratty jeans, half my head shaved, last night’s nightmare rattling around in my head trying to become a story.
Hi.
I hope I’m not too terribly disappointing.
