My fist glitch.
For almost as long as I’ve known Kath, she has talked about the power of visualising your published novels on the shelves in bookshops. I’ve come across the idea of visualising what you want as part of getting it – my eldest brother’s wife, crazy as a bandicoot, used to urge me to visualise having better eyesight. I’m not really the kind of person to think this way. But I’m beginning to suspect Kath has a point.
Kath and Jenny are right into learning about self-publishing and getting what they need to make the most of it. Jenny has done Mark Dawson’s course and will impart her new wisdom to me and Kath over lunch in the next week or two. Kath has bought the “Author Tool Kit”, which is about how to make the most of Amazon and sell more books in every format, paper, electronic and audio. They’re determined and businesslike. Kath has edited Jenny’s novel, “The Lost Valley”, Pilyara Press’s first publication.
Meanwhile, I’m utterly unable to think of my fiction as something people will want to buy or read. This has got nothing to do with my abilities as a writer. I know I pass muster in that regard. (I’ve been watching The Crown, so imagine I’m saying this with a broad monarchical English accent.) It’s all about how I see myself, which is NOT as someone who writes sellable books but as someone who works away in her office, improving, polishing, striving for that unattainable perfection, the eternal wannabe.
I might have to look at myself in the mirror each morning and say, “You will sell books, Sydney. You are a sellable author, Sydney. You will stride out of your office and into the sunlight of authorship and book sales, Sydney.”
For me, it’s always about changing the way I think.