Folks, I was feeling my oats, as the old expression goes.
Then I noticed a new review for the book. A two-star did-not-finish review. And there was a wind storm in Lynchburg as the air whooshed out of my ego balloon. I think it was a wake-up call. You're still not writing good enough to please readers. You need to work harder. So, it's back to the drawing board for me.
But we won't dwell on that. I was able to rank in the top few. For that, I'm grateful.
The winner will be notified on June 11th, the day my granddaughter gets married, so I won't be able to attend the luncheon. Just as well. I don't expect to win. I'm just thrilled I finaled.
The really neat thing? Two of my Vixens--my Street Team--finaled, too. And in the SAME category! What are the chances of that? I'm always bragging that I have the most talented Street Team--and I do. I'm surrounded by supportive people. Especially Calvin.
My problem? I'm in a blue mood. I want to try new things but that old rascal self-doubt moved in a couple weeks ago with a three-piece set of luggage. And it doesn't look as if the bugger is moving out anytime soon. I'm beginning to wonder if once this contract is over and my old books are self-published if it won't be time for me to turn off my laptop and call it a day.
I'll be 68 in a week and a half. I'm tired. Writing trends are changing. Reviewers are getting more cruel. My writing career isn't moving forward at the pace I'd hoped. Maybe it's time to make my goals more realistic....and maybe in a few days I'll feel completely different. Who knows? But for right now, my emotions are swinging. I need a vacation, wine, and a girl's time out--and not necessarily in that order.
Write on, my lovelies.