No Promises
I don’t know how to describe where I am in my writing career. I work full-time as a writer. Sales are down a bit from previous years and previous months online, but convention sales are through the roof for me. I think I’m producing some of my best work right now and people are responding a little. I’m picking up more readers and more super supportive readers.
I believe I have the respect of my peers, respect from a number of authors well above me in status, and respect from newer authors who seem to value insights I can share. A lot of them are selling a lot better than me though, I think. I should take advice from them. I write articles for LitReactor on writing and get good feedback from those. Not every publisher takes everything I write, but more of them at least know who I am and are interested in what I have to pitch.
I do believe I am a better writer now. I think my short stories are more consistently good and sometimes great. I think I’m reaching better levels of storytelling in my novels now and I think I was doing okay before.
I’m also old before my time. I’m on borrowed time. I’ve learned to be tough and to produce quality work under less than ideal conditions, especially healthwise. But I’m almost assuredly much closer to the end than the beginning. That makes me sad. It makes me think of legacy, but also makes me want what I write to matter now.
I don’t believe there is a moment of rocketing success ahead in my future. I don’t anticipate that “my moment” or “my time” is going to come in any real sense of those phrases. I don’t think my time has passed necessarily, but I’m starting to think it is a thing that never was.
I’m proud of what I write and I appreciate the audience I have. There are no promises for any more than that, not another day guaranteed, but days seem to keep passing just the same. That’s fine by me. I’m doing my best to make the most of them.
Here are some things you might be interested in:
After The Tommyknockers
by Jay Wilburn
King begins his novel with a character stumbling over her destiny. Stumbling over your destiny in a King novel isn’t always a good thing, but you should always trust a dog’s instincts about where there is danger. If she hadn’t looked back, she might have let it all go …
Author’s Note: This may be my most published story, not because it is my best, but because it was written so long ago. I believe it is 14 years old now. The author’s note on Patreon was written in December of 2020.
“Decorating Day”
by Jay Wilburn
He had to brace his boot against the mailman’s face to get the blade of the ax to come loose from its skull …
The novel Split Between by Jay Wilburn and Armand Rosamilia is now complete. You can read the first few chapters for free at this link. Or you can read the whole thing before it is published for a couple bucks on our Patreons.
Thanks, Everybody
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Decorating Day was fantastic! I love decorating, but I think I may stop during the zombie apocalypse. Ha