Well, I did it. My debut novel has officially debuted. I kicked it out of the nest, told it to spread its wings and fly, and boy am I glad that's over with. Is it perfect? No. But it's done, and it's out there, and now I feel like I can focus on Book #2.
When I first started writing the novel in 2013, I thought (like most writers) that I'd send it off to a few literary agents, snap up a great one, and eventually see it published traditionally by a reputable house (after a heart-pounding, stake-raising bidding war, of course). Not so, young delusional writer, not so. I was not the special snowflake who struck gold on my first try.
So after reality set in and I realized either I could sit on it until someone else decided it was saleable, or I could do the damn thing myself, I did the damn thing myself. Edited, proofread, formatted, even designed a shitty cover. Fortunately I saw the light on the cover before sending my novel out into the big wide world, but that's a topic for another time. Do I wish I could have gotten (re: afforded) some more professional help in preparing my book for launch? Yes. Do I think it would have made the book better? Sure. But the pursuit of perfection is a good way to never get anything done, and I wanted to get it done, so I did the best I could with what I had and now I can move on. From the endless trap of rewrites, I mean. Apparently now I have to market it.
Long story short, Along Came December is now for sale most places you can buy books. It's available as an ebook right this second, but the print copies are still en route to my domicile for proofing before I make them available for purchase. If you're intrigued but not yet fully committed to the idea of purchasing the book, you can read it serially on Wattpad. Be prepared to be patient, though. This beast is long.