Sometimes I feel like the wrapper of a candy bar. I'm the one who tells of the wonderful things inside, entice with my seductive shininess, and give all the details of what's inside. But in the end it is what's inside that matters and I am tossed aside.
I'm beginning to wonder if reviews are worth the effort. They certainly are nice to read and know someone appreciates what I've written, yet I haven't noticed much in the way of sales. Then I see books that are read just because the author has a negative reputation or the book is so bad people read it just to say they read it. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the reviews and the fans who like what I write. They are the ones who give me that nudge to continue.
They say you need marketing and I do what I can, but when one is trying to write finding the time to market isn't all that easy. Then one has to compete with "celebrity" books-you know the ones that are most likely written by a ghost writer or at the very least all the celebrity's non-talent for writing edited completely out.
In the end the writer has to decide if the words are for show or for self. I like to think I write for myself and share with others. I'm very good at sharing
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