The big day awaits.
After years of writing nonfiction, and what seems like years of pitching to agents, I’m publishing my first novel this summer. Peak Season is the first in what I hope will become a series about CW McCoy, a police officer turned real estate agent who’s blackmailed into helping a killer clear his name.
The proofreader has the manuscript now and should finish before the end of the month. The cover arrives shortly. (I tried an initial design. Photoshop is not my friend.) I’ve applied to the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office to register the name of my publishing company. Once the mark is approved, I’ll upload the files to that massive bookstore in the sky and join the world of indie publishing.
Ah, visions of glamor, wealth and fame. Oprah and the Today Show. Top of the Pops, and the Times bestseller list.
Reality check: I’ll consider myself lucky if I sell 26 copies. (I think I know that many people on Facebook.)
What do the British say . . . carry on?