The Fussy Librarian campaign for The Last Midnight resulted in over a thousand downloads. My goal was 900, so I’m satisfied, but the thought of that many eyes on my new words makes me want to hide behind a curtain.

Still, I hope a large number of those who downloaded will read the book, like it, and then decide to utilize the free download link to The Scribbled Victims that follows the end of the story, which will introduce more readers to Orly and sign them up for my mailing list. This reader magnet/book funnel strategy is something I learned from an indie author course I paid for. I hope it works.

Today, I didn’t write, but instead spent hours learning about keywords and book categories and incorporating the things I learned into my current Amazon listings. This I hope will get more visibility for my books which will hopefully result in more readers.

But even if none of the above works, I still feel good right now because a reader posted a review saying The Last Midnight is beautiful, and my most important goal as a writer is to write something beautiful. It’s more important to me than having a large audience or enough royalties to quit my day job. Don’t get me wrong, I want those things too, but creating something beautiful has always come first, since that night I stayed up in bed reading The Dead when I was sixteen and was awed by its beauty and its perfection.

Sometimes I think some of my sentences are beautiful. Sometimes I think elements of my stories are beautiful. And those sometimes feel like the reward of writing. But invariably, self-doubt will make those feelings recede. Sure they come back, like the tide, when I reread or daydream about what I’ve written, but hearing it from a reader means a lot because their belief in me gives me reason to question the self-doubt that obscures the beauty I sometimes get a glimpse of in my own work.

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Saturday night, I saw the Mariinsky Ballet perform my favorite ballet—La Bayadere. I always love how dreamlike the Third Act is—The Kingdom of Shades. It makes my imagination swoon. But this performance was made more special by the beautiful sadness of Nikiya’s dance before her death at the end of the Second Act. (Nikiya was performed by Maria Khoreva.) As someone who loves words, it’s awe inspiring to see how much can be expressed through movement. My heart broke for her and it was glorious.

 

Sunday night, I finished listening to the thirty-five chapters of the audiobook version of Scribbling the Eternal. I have only sixteen things I’d like re-read. I feel very proud of this book. I feel like I’m putting forth my best work, and there is nothing more important when you choose to share your writing.

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