I know I should be writing...
I should be writing; I know I should.
This second book won’t write itself, but I’ve been so distracted. Apparently second books aren’t the only things that won’t see to themselves, neither does publicity. I’ve heard that some publishers won’t even touch a new author unless they have a significant following on social media.
Thankfully, I wasn’t one of them, but I’ve still fallen foul of the dreaded socials stigma in other ways.
Distributors also seem to get jittery. It’s not that I won’t try to engage with social media, but it’s so bloody difficult knowing what to write. What on earth does one tweet about without sounding puerile, or even worse, middle-aged.
I’m not about to start posting pictures of what I’ve cooked for dinner—mostly because by the time I remember, it’s half eaten and now the mash is mixed in with the gravy and there’s bite marks in the carrots. Then there’s blogs, and newsletters, and Goodreads, and everything else that you should apparently already have been doing since the hour before you were born otherwise, you’ll never be a successful writer. ‘You need more images of yourself on your media accounts.’ I don’t want me on my media accounts, that’s why I’m a writer and not a presenter, or a Youtuber or an influencer. These things weren’t even invented when I was growing up, and I’m already coming to terms with the fact that invisible socks is a middle-aged thing as well!
I think I might have a podcast in me, or at least I would if I didn’t hate the sound of my own voice. If I could just get an attractive actor with a fantastic sounding voice to play me in public and on the socials, then it would allow me to get back to being distracted by the wrong type of writing!