Goofy Goober Finally Finds Time to Blog!

Well, it's 10:17 at night, my hubby is out with the guys, and my kids are watching The Spongebob Squarepants Movie for the million-th time.

"I'm a goofy goober!  ROCK!"

You know that will be in my head (and yours) for a little while!  Sorry.  Now is as good a time as any to blog, right?

So, wow.  Where do I begin?  Things have been slightly psycho since I revealed my writing secret and published a book.  It's a good kind of psycho, though.  The support I've received has been amazing, and I mean FlAmIng AmaZeBaLLs amazing!  Never in a million years did I expect so many people to love my story.  Never.  Getting a good review is like a drug; my own personal brand of heroin.  (This is where Twilight fans - myself included - roll their eyes yet still smile).

Wait...please hold.  A fight is ensuing downstairs between the offspring over a bagel.  One sec.

~~~~

Okay, I'm back.  Crisis averted.  Why are my children eating bagels so late you might ask?  Because they are eating machines!  It's like a 24/7 buffet over here.  I swear I'm only writing to keep food in the house.

Anyway, back to the flaming amazeballs and heroin.  Like I said, things have been great and I've met some really wonderful ladies online who have reviewed my story and already support the sequel 100%.  I'm not going to lie; this makes me nervous and excited.  What if the next book doesn't live up to the first?  I mean, I love it.  Will everyone else?  I'm still waiting for that first inevitable bad review of Guardian.  I'm sweating over here, wondering when it will appear.  The book has only been out just over a month, after all.

Stressing isn't something new for me; just ask those who know me.  But, that's okay because it means I care.  This wouldn't be worth doing if I didn't care, right?  (This is where you nod and say "yes.")  I mean, dreaming of ways to market my book and waking up with ideas is totally normal (again, you nod and say "yes").  Keeping track of reviewers and giveaways I've agreed to participate in via a sticky note jungle is totally status quo (again, yes).  And checking FB and Goodreads like a fecking idiot is also sane.

Yep, it's official.  I am, indeed, a goofy goober.

ROCK!!

I won't keep you; in fact, I think I hear YouTube which means my son is on my Kindle.  Again.  So much for reading tonight; I can sense the battery draining as I type.  So, if you're reading this, it means you support me and for that I am truly grateful.  If you have read Guardian and enjoyed it, I'm glad I could entertain you.  I have a list of those who have gone over and above to promote me and my work, and if there ever comes a time where I'm able to pay it forward, consider yourself PAID.  Because I'm a goofy goober.  We're all goofy goobers.  And we...(wait for it)...

ROCK!!

God, that was awful.  I never claimed to be a comedian.

Thank you!  Good night!

What started this nonsense, anyway?

So...hi!

If you've stumbled upon this blog and are taking the time to read my ramblings, I thank you!  Here's a little background on how my story came to be.

I've been writing as a hobby for a little over a year now and no one knows (except for four exceptional people).  I'm sure I'm going to get a lot of questions when my authoric attempt is revealed.  (Yes, authoric is a made-up word.  I think it sounds like a superhero trait, and who couldn't use a few of those?)

Here are a few of the questions I expect:

Who says you're a writer?
Who says your story is any good?
Who's going to want to read it?
Who did you write it for?

Answer:  my friends.

Guardian exists because of them.

A short year ago, I got the brilliant idea to write a story.  A friend of mine was writing her own and I thought, "Hey, I can do this too!  Let's do it together!"

And so the monster was born.

I've always loved books.  I've always love to read.  I was the girl in the cafeteria with her face stuck in V.C. Andrews instead of gossiping with her friends (that happened on the phone after school).  I was the one caught in my middle school social studies class - repeatedly - for reading something other than the textbook (sorry Mr. Harden!).  I'm the girl who put in her senior memory book, under "What I Want to Accomplish," that she wanted to write a novel.

Took me long enough, didn't it?  My 20th high school reunion is next year!  In my defense, life kind of got in the way.  You know, that whole work, marriage, and kids thing.  

Once I started writing about James, Emma, and Dane, the characters took on a life of their own.  I wrote purely for my beta readers; my only intent was to entertain my friends during a few slow months at work.  Then they started asking for more, and I couldn't wait to give it to them.  Here's a sample of text and Facebook messages I received:

"Where's the next chapter?"
"You said I'd have it by 5!"
"You're late!"
"When are you starting the next book?"
"It's over?  What am I going to read now?"

With their encouragement, one story morphed into three.  It probably would have anyway; once created, my characters wouldn't shut up!  It's like they were real people!  I know that sounds nuts, but I swear every spare minute was dedicated to thinking about them.  I've read where other authors have said the same thing, and I was like, "Ever consider meds?"  Now I've joined the ranks.

And I love it.

So, I'm going out on a limb and putting myself out there.  Once Guardian makes it through one more round of edits, I'm putting this bad boy on Amazon (hopefully mid-July).  My hope is that others will enjoy it as much as I (we, including betas) have.  If only ten people read it and like it, I will consider this venture a success.  Will I make a ton of money?  No.  Will everyone like it?  Probably not.  Will I become famous?  Unlikely.

Will I keep writing?

Abso-friggin'-lutely.

'Till next time!