I need to get out more. Not outdoors, at least not while the pollen is blowing, but outside my own blog. Not only did I comment more on my friends’ blogs, but I used to seek out at least one new blog every day. I learned a lot and made new friends.
But I got overwhelmed with revisions, and my virtual borders shrank. Then, I started down the road to indie publishing, and they shrank some more. I used to post faithfully, three times a week, but now that’s become a bit erratic, though I do keep up with replying to comments. I owe a big thank you to those who’ve stuck with me.
It seems the last I remember it was November. Can that be April at the door? Some of you have probably written two novels and ten shorts in that time. I’m totally out of touch. I miss the fun side of social media. I haven’t had a silly day on Twitter for ages.
Have you ever seen grass that bleached out because it’s been under something flat for a few days? That’s sort of how I feel—deformed and pale. But my self-imposed isolation is almost over. The e-book files are formatted and I’m waiting on the proof print copy. The Brevity of Roses will soon be out there in the world.
And so will I—virtually, at least. Watch for me. I’ll be that pale, lumpy, woman grinning and waving like crazy.
Photo credit: Dawn M Schiller – Odd Fae and Autumn Things
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