I love words. Slices of words on my tongue satisfy me like a sweet, icy watermelon on a sweaty July day. Whether I twist those words into colorful quotes, mash a couple of them together to create my own new word, or string just enough of them into countless paragraphs that eventually produce a book, I. Love. Words.
It took me a few years to realize I’m different that way—not everyone shares my passion. Few people consider their office or library a haven like I do, a place of refuge where shelves of categorically arranged books permeate the air with the faint mist of paper and ink.
Chances are, you’re somewhat similar to me. Yes, I suspect I’m in good company as I share today with you. We writers with lofty dreams, we have a way of finding each other. As an often insecure tribe who spends the majority of our days writing and waiting, vacillating between confidence and fear, we need the support of each other on this sometimes lonely and highly competitive journey.
It’s not new news: the publishing industry is shrinking. Larger publishers have nabbed smaller ones, and some have simply closed their doors. E-readers have reshaped the way consumers think about, and purchase, books. As a result, today’s publisher tends to seek new authors with the lowest risk.
Here’s the good news: God is bigger than statistics.
Publishers still need new authors; I imagine publishers will always want a well-rounded catalog of books to offer booksellers. While, yes, the best-selling authors sometimes carry the majority of sales, booksellers are usually on the lookout for “What’s new?”
This newness, though? I’ve discovered it costs us. Many hours of learning the industry, honing the craft, and most importantly, uncovering our unique voices.
Only you can determine if it’s worth the sacrifice; it’s the same choice I recently had to make. You see, I have a book releasing in a couple of weeks, When A Woman Finds Her Voice, and I wrote this book during a very difficult season. Many days, the morning sun rose right over the rim of my keyboard. In the only quiet time available to me, I would tuck away most of the night pleading for this heart-message to come. {I write about sensitive topics that today’s Christian women face, and that requires an unwavering authenticity that for me can only come in the stillness.}
I wonder what you’re willing to invest. The time it takes to pen the words—even if the book never sells? The sacrifice of certain relationships that might be put on hold while you pursue your dream? Your own reputation ?
Your turn: Why this book? Why are you willing to give this slice of time and energy? Is the investment worth it to you? I’d love to hear why!
WordServe Water Cooler 