So I'm in this weird head space right now that I've never been in before, because this is a first in my life. My books are selling.
Not someone else's books. Not books I've worked on. Not magazines that I've contributed to.
I'm not selling a lot, but I'm selling books I've written.
And every damn time a book sells, that day, I'm excited. I've sold something! Someone will read my book, maybe even all the way through! They might even like it!
And then a day goes by with no sales, and another.
This feeling begins to creep in, that I'd sold my last book, and that's it. It was a fun ride, and I had a great time, but it's over. It's not sadness really. Resignation? Not really that either. Maybe gratitude, like the day after my birthday when I've spent time with family and friends and I got a few gifts and ate cake (we don't make a big deal of my birthday). I'm grateful and happy. Although we're together because of the event, it's not entirely about me. It's about sharing a landmark together.
The next day, I'm not let down, or sad. I just feel like the party is over and now it's time to get back to work. I'm happy because I got to see everyone and have some fun, but life moves on and it's not as bright as that day before.
That's the closest I can get, I think, to describing how it feels to have a day or two or ten go by with no sales. I figure, I might not sell another book. That's okay. It has to be. Nothing lasts forever.
Then I sell another book and it starts all over again. It's exciting, and yet the future feels very uncertain because of it. Almost all of my life, I could predict pretty well what the next day, the next week, even the next month would be like. Now I don't know.
I don't know.
That's really nifty. I think I can get used to this.