My writing productivity has been hampered lately. The big reasons for that have been that my laptop is getting fixed (again!) and my day job, despite being part-time, has delayed me from reviewing the TV shows, among other things, that I normally review for Examiner.

But there’s another reason why, albeit a good and necessary one:

Promotion.

When a writer is self-published or with a small publishing house like I am, he does most of the promotion for his books on his own (heck, even writers with big publishers have to promote themselves). He has to update his websites and social media with links to new books (like I did yesterday with Destroyer: Deluxe Edition). Then he have to share that everywhere. For me, I barely have time for Facebook, let alone Tumblr or Twitter (I’d hire someone to tweet for me and give him the title, “Nate Marchand’s official twit”). Heck, even keeping up with a weekly blog post is a pain. Sometimes I miss a week or post it later (I try to post every Thursday), and that’s just when I don’t have other announcements to mention—like my book signing this weekend. (See how I keep promoting myself!) 😛

Also, as a self-published author, I have to do all the cool but mundane things I normally take for granted, like design my book’s exterior and interior. I have to design the cover myself or hire someone to do it. Depending on the website I use, getting artwork to fit may be a chore. For the interior, I can format it—often two times if I make a print book and an e-book, the latter of which can be a chore—find and download fonts, & convert to different file types. And before I even get to this I have to edit the book myself, which will mean commissioning beta readers to edit it.

Like I said, all the stuff you don’t think about you must do. The writer becomes editor, artist, salesman, and graphic designer. That’s a lot of hats to juggle!

Don’t think I’m complaining, because I’m not. I enjoy these things. It expands my skillset. I’m a shameless self-promoter, so that comes naturally. But when I’m doing all those things, I’m not able to write, and that sometimes makes me feel guilty. All these stories bouncing around in my brain like balls on Pong—it’s nerve-wracking! You know what it’s like having fictional characters yell at you for not telling their stories? It’s almost like being schizophrenic! They’d rather I do that than get people to read their stories. Well, sometimes they do.

So, if you want to be a writer because it’s glamorous, go become a doctor. Writing is work. Fun work, yes, but a lot of work. It’s not for the faint of heart.

But, oh man, is it worth it!

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