Every year on the first weekend of March, my author sisters, Kira, Max, and I head down to the Tucson Book Festival. We've been doing this for — gosh — eight years or so now?
Those first four years were as attendees hungrily trying to soak up as much knowledge about the industry as we could. As soon as the festival would release its schedule of panels online, we'd divide up who was going to what and after the festival, we'd all gather to share what we'd learned.
The last four years however, we managed to make the transition from wanna-be's to wow-we-did-it's. And I won't downplay what a triumph that accomplishment was. We all buckled down, worked towards a communal dream, and achieved it. I'm still amazed at what we've accomplished — but the perfectionist and overachiever in me wonders if it'll ever be enough.
Walking into the festival each year, I'm gobsmacked (and completely green with envy) seeing other authors releasing one, two, or even three books every year. I often sit at my little signing table wondering when they sleep or are they lottery-winning lucky and are able to write full time without the dreaded ball and chain of a day job sucking up their inspiration/productivity time.
I wish I were as prolific as other writers, but the honest truth is that I'm not and I have to learn to be okay with that.
Quality vs quantity, Sidney. Quality vs quantity.
That doesn't mean that I can't work on amending myself if I want to be a tad better in that regard.