Get 10,000 Readers

I haven't been writing much on my personal blog -- way too many other commitments right now. I've been working my ass off and losing direction quickly. Gee, is that possible? Yes, apparently it is.

Organizing a blog tour is easier than it used to be -- I'm hiring someone to do one for me. Yay! I haven't built up contacts with many book bloggers yet and I don't have time to cultivate more this late in the game when the second book has just come out three weeks ago. So, lay out some cash for a super-duper organized person who knows what they're doing and BAM, I'm done.

Will it work and will I gain sales? No idea, but I'm willing to try.

Next -- volunteering. I don't know what the eff is wrong with me sometimes. I read a book in my genre, or a book from a Facebook contact and I think "Oh, I can help them with this" and I rush off and write an email offering my time. I guess a part of me sees so much potential in other books I want to help the writers gain sales and build an audience. I've often felt the writing community is close and helpful, so I never hesitate to jump in and offer assistance when I can.

But recently it's backfired on me. One person accepted my time and effort on reformatting an entire print book when they felt they couldn't say no. Not because they were physically afraid I'd pull a Jersey-girl and come at them with my massive limb-ripping-off talents, but because they are always eager to please. Twelve hours later and it comes to light that they were happy with the product the way it is and I never should have offered to help.

Let me point out, this person is a sweet and caring individual and just because I wasted my time doesn't mean I'm angry with them - I'm angry at myself for volunteering when I shouldn't have.

Another time, I edited a short section of an author's work (with their permission) to illustrate it needs another editing pass. I spent hours on it, and wound up upsetting the person when I couldn't edit the entire manuscript. I never implied I would edit the whole thing, but I felt like I let the person down with my refusal.

One enterprising friend pointed out I should charge for my time -- but I thank that is a double-edged blade. If I charge, then I feel the person has a right to expect my time and my "A" game - a game I'm sorely off of right now.

My emotional reaction to these recent volunteer efforts proved that to me. I was insanely angry over the time I wasted on the formatting project. Time I put off from getting my own print book launched and the work due for the RHP writers who trust me to get things done. "Insanely angry" -- Does that sound like me?

Arm-ripping jokes aside, it showed me what I didn't want to face -- I was having a relapse of symptoms. Irrational anger and mood swings being one of the signs. All of a sudden, the joint pain, muscle problems, tiredness, memory problems, and reduced cognitive issues became more apparent. Couldn't ignore them anymore and think of them as temporary.

I've been experimenting with not taking my normal medications and supplements. When I started the anti-parasitic treatments this summer I allowed myself to slip with the others. After all, I'd felt fan-freakin-tastic for months now, surely I didn't need all those antibiotics, pro-biotics, liquids, powders and more supplements than I care to think about?

Umm… yes, apparently I still do need them. It's been a depressing week. I started with all the pills again last week, plus the fifth anti-parasitic medication on last Sunday, but had a major reaction when I went out  Tuesday evening with friends and had three drinks over the course of the evening. I wasn't drunk by any means -- I think by age forty I should know that feeling quite well. I even stayed up 90 minutes past my last drink and had more water.

But the next day was hell and I couldn't take any meds at all, spending my morning in the bathroom vomiting bile. Also, by this past Monday (even after starting all the pills the previous Wednesday) my neuropathy came back in my hands and I started losing feeling in my fingers. I'm not that stupid -- it's no coincidence that I messed up on my supplements and antibiotics and a few weeks later my neurological signs came screaming back.

I really thought I had this thing beat. I'd felt better than I had in years and I sincerely hoped I could cut back on all the constant care this treatment required. It was a gamble, cutting back like I did, and one I didn't clear with my doctors first. I was so tired of all the pills and shit I just wanted a break.

Now, here I sit, my short-term memory shot and my moods erratic. Numb hands and weepy as I try to clear my head. I should be happy - I'm selling more books than I've ever sold in my life and starting to make some actual money. But I've spun so out of control with my health in such a short time I feel like I'm scrambling on a daily basis to appear normal.

I know what I need to do, it's what I've done for the past two years since these extensive treatments started. Step back, re-group, make a plan, and stick to it. I owe it to my children, my husband, and myself.

My writer friends will still be my friends whether I edit, make covers, format or answer their emails in under an hour. Most of them have stuck by me the past year when I've had some similar relapses and have offered their time to help me in a heartbeat (Thank you!).

Sure, we know I'm a fighter. I just need to narrow my focus for a while to two things during my work day - 1) My health 2) My writing.

Because hey, let's face it, book three isn't going to write itself and I've got some readers who are actually clamoring for it. Who would've thunk it?

The series is reaching people who like it -- and sure, some who don't and review it when they don't like it -- but overall things are good. I can't complain on that end.

So, let me quite my whining and go choke down my twelve pills and seven liquids with my lunch. Life can always be worse and this is just another bump in the road to getting better.

Wishing you all a good end of July!
C.J.