We authors are a funny lot. I’m certified manic depressive but many of us indulge in that kind of behaviour anyway. We swoop from total certainty that we are the next JKR (it’s just a matter of time) to the depths of despair that nobody is ever going to buy our books.
Very rarely (only once in my life so far) something happens that makes an author realise that it is all worthwhile. That we are ungrateful sods to be complaining about having to edit when we chose this way of life. That we are highly privileged to be able to have an effect on other’s lives in such a way. Think of books you read as child. How much of those have stayed with you? How have they shaped the way you see the world? An author did that!
My moment of “joy and humility in equal proportions” happened last week when I got a very good review of Shaman’s Drum. Good reviews are always welcome, naturally, but this one was extraordinary. It came from a woman who has not been able to read a complete book due to very severe health problems for a long time. She made an enormous effort to read my book. She loved it. She loved it so much that it has spurred her to get back into reading.
Yes, I cried my bloody eyes out. Read on and you’ll understand why.
“OMGs! I read it cover to cover this morning. Ailsa, its a fantastic book. Can’t
wait for the prequel and there’d better be a sequel too! I want to know about
the new religion Riga and Iamo are planning.
I love the description of the Prince with worms for hair and maggots in his
The characters and settings, plot twists are SO believable. This is the first
book I’ve read for 3 yrs.”
Yes, darling, there will be a prequel some time in 2014. How could there not be? And for you, if for nobody else, I will write a sequel too. Some readers make it all worth any effort.