With The Clockwork Giant coming out in six days, my nerves are all a jitter. My first reviews have gone up, and the book is officially out there. And as insecure as I am, I question whether or not I made the right decision, not about self-publishing, but about publishing itself. Is my book really worth publishing? I mean, it is my first completed novel. Aren’t those supposed to suck?
Now, I know that it’s the best book that I’ve ever written. I know that I couldn’t improve it anymore even if I worked on it for another six months or a year. I love this book. I made the decision to publish, because well, what have I got to lose? People may love it. People may hate it. Hopefully readers lean toward the first one, but I know not everyone will. And while I know that The Clockwork Giant is the epitome of my writing career so far, I know that it is in no way the best book I will ever write. I still have a long way to go as a writer, and I was reminded of that fact yesterday.
I have no doubt that one day, may it be five years from now or fifty, I will be a bestselling author. I will have written an arsenal of books, and my craft will be so far beyond what it is now. But until then, I can’t believe that I’ve reached my potential as a writer now that I have a book for sale. I hope to grow as a writer with each book that I write—learning some new technique, challenging myself to write outside my comfort zone, daring to dream big. I hope that each book is better than the last, and that I learn to have confidence in my own ability. But for now, I'm happy knowing that I'm a novelist, even if I'm just an infantile one. This is only the beginning.
And for some reviews:
Also, fellow blogger Angela Brown hosted me over at her blog, where I talk about choosing to write steampunk and how the idea for The Clockwork Giant came to me. Check that post out here.