CEO. OF EVERYTHING

It’s a scary thing when you realize you’re the CEO.

That’s right, baby. It’s me. I’M the CEO. Woop! Finally got that imaginary corner office…so…why isn’t this easier? And where the hell is my assistant? The minute—or the culmination of minutes—it took me to realize that no one was going to do this for me—write amazing books, market them, and live comfortably off my earnings—was both liberating and terrifying. (Mostly terrifying)

I try to keep my posts somewhat writing related and that was one of many epiphanies recently; I’m CEO of my own company (even if it’s just having five books on the market.) It’s me. Just me. I’ve had this thought before, but never with the oomph of the “CEO” title. Somehow, it makes it even more exciting/scary. But, as I keep shouting to myself, I got this.

As CEO, that means I’m also in charge of all marketing. Haven’t you seen me all over the place? No, you haven’t, because I barely do anything BUT I’ve put together two ads. What do you think?

 

Oh yeah *tugs suspenders” Drink in all that homemade goodness ($0.00 budget, remember?)

If you support me, my work, or know anyone who you think would enjoy it, I invite you to share one or both of these lovely teasers with them. It’s all about word-of-mouth, you know. I rarely pick up something because I found it and sank in on my own (Eleanor & Park) but because someone recommended it to me. 😉

Do you run your own side business or feel like the CEO of something? How do you handle it? Is it scary? Exciting? Both?

P.S. I saw Solo. Meh.

P.P.S. I stopped watching Hemlock Grove. Just couldn’t deal. I AM watching Westworld and Sunday night’s episode might be my favorite. Did you watch it? Do you know what I’m talking about? ARE WE PART OF THE SAME TRIBE? <—- (see what I did there).

Not Giving Up Yet, IWSG

This is super last minute but I didn’t want to get kicked out of the IWSG club. I should’ve written this post on Sunday but I was at a losing football match and then in a game store for way too long waiting on Batman to add to his NES collection so by the time I got home and played with Appa, I only wanted to sit down and wait for WestWorld to come on. Which is what I did. (PLEASE watch Westworld. Let’s talk about it. I need more people to talk about it with.)

And here we are. Tuesday night.

As far as writing goes…I’m fine. I guess. I almost didn’t write this post because I don’t want to jinx the not having depressive thoughts over writing/being a writer/living a writer lifestyle. It’s pretty much a daily battle, but if I at least get a little writing done (even if marketing / reading / networking / EVERYTHING ELSE goes out the window) I consider it a win. And I have been writing each day—same thing that’s been in my head since the beginning of this year.

Sometimes I look at my WIP and think “psshh—you’re NEVER showing this to a living soul.”

Other times I’m like “THIS BOOK WILL RULE THE BESTSELLERS LIST.”

So, I’m not really sure how I feel about it. But each day there’s progress and I’ll take that over falling into the pit of depression and self-loathing and wishing I was something straightforward like a teacher or nurse or whatever real adults do for a living.

The IWSG question this month:

In terms of your writing career, where do you see yourself five years from now, and what’s your plan to get there?

Oh, geez, I don’t know. I’d planned on being a bestselling author by now, but maybe 36 is more my year. I have absolutely NO IDEA where I’m going to be in five years, but I hope I’m still writing.

No. I KNOW I’ll still be writing.

Will I be making any money from it? I sure hope so. I also hope I won’t kill myself between now and then working away at a string of dead-end jobs waiting for my Colleen Hoover moment.

Insecure Writer’s Support Group (IWSG) is a monthly blog hop for writers at all levels to share their fears and insecurities in a safe and encouraging place. Please drop by and say hi to Alex Cavanaugh who started this nifty concept in bringing us all together.

P.S. I’m only kidding about killing myself. It’d just be a serious maiming.

P.P.S. I’m kidding about the maiming. NOT kidding about the depression or occasional suicidal thought. But we all get those. I’m pretty sure Bill Burr covered it in one of his skits. God I love Bill Burr.