So I’m writing a romance novel.
There’s really no question, this is not going to be the next Great American Novel, nor is it going to revolutionize the industry and make a zillion dollars.
It’s just a light-hearted romance, between two characters that I’m writing to keep my own attention while I’m spending all this time on the project. (Although to be honest, one of the side characters has become my actual favorite, so I had to tweak the story a bit so he can show up in book two.)
But the truth is, I read these kinds of books. Sure, I might occasionally read something more literary, or dive into some SciFi, or even read a business-related book for my job. But most nights, I’m reading light romantic fiction.
I don’t really talk about it, though, and since I mostly read on my devices, I don’t have shelves filled with romantic book covers with dreamy titles. It’s more like a guilty pleasure, like dancing around the living room to “Dancing with Myself.”
At the pace I’m writing, even with editing and book design to do, this first book could be done in a few months. So that’s how long I have to get myself from slightly embarrassed to damn proud, since the only way I can be sure anyone will read this book will be to tell my friends and family.
Expect me to be working through this mental change on this blog.
Current word count: 19376.