Fat Man, Weepin'!

It's an amazing thing, how fragile an ego can be.

What does it take to turn a hardcore, military man, into a pouting little tool? Apparently, if that guy is me, it only takes some minor disappointment to set me "Sobbin' like a little bitch with a skinned knee" (props to Kevin Smith there, yo!) And, as we all know, "There ain't nothin' worse than watchin' a fat man weep!" (Yup, that's a Double Dogma quote swipe, for those of you counting!)

So, what is it I speak of that has had me behaving like such a weenie? Why, the dismal sales of my first two novels, of course! Listen, I know I posted all that cool sounding crap like: not caring about the sales . . . how I just wanted to write for the sake of writing . . . how I was thrilled that even one person read my books, etc, etc,, ad nauseum.

What a complete crock of shit!!

I REALLY wanted them damn things to take off like Wiley Coyote with an Acme Rocket strapped to his ass! Let's face it, in order to sit down and write novels, you have to believe that everything you do is absolute genius. You have to have an ego the size of a small continent to think that made up crap out of your own subconscious is so incredible that hordes of people will throw money at you like drunks at a stripper convention. You gotta put up a front of such immense confidence that it seems like an impenetrable force field between you and a the negativity the world throws at you.

I just didn't know that force field was made of plastic wrap! Seriously . . . wow. My ego crawled back into the deep recesses of self loathing, buried deep inside my Id, and covered itself with piles of scorn (ya' know, just to keep warm down there in the dark!)

So, translating that into English: I stopped writing cuz the world was mean to me!!

Well, I apparently have a remarkable ability to lie to myself, because I'm back at my writing and I'm back to trying to promote my books with a whole slew of new tools, including an all new website design, more blog posts, a regular newsletter, and other marketing type stuff to try and get more folks to read my masterpieces! Of course, this is all assuming that the scotch tape I've used to patch up those holes in my Seran Wrap deflector field holds and I don't wind up whimpering  in a locked room with the shades pulled down and muttering to myself . . .

Meh. What the hell, it's only an ego right? Apparently, mine grows back!!

Hope y'all come along for another ride.

JAC