So there’s this hill, right before I get to my gym, that is a total nightmare to ride up on my bike. I strain and groan and stand up on my pedels and almost fall over, and by the time I get to the top, my heart is thumping wildly and I can hardly breathe. Sometimes I just get off my bike and walk it. Every time, I get mad at the hill for even existing. Stupid hill.
Indie authors, marketing and the art of trying whatever
When you’re in a centuries-old trade that has been completely turned on its head, there are no rules by which to be guided, nor to be bound. People have been writing and selling books for a super long time, but the indie author/POD/online marketing approach is brand spanking new. It’s an interesting challenge, because some of the tools you need have been around forever, but are entrenched in the old way of doing things, and others are simply so new, there’s just no way of knowing what the best ones are.
Advice for Not Myself: Never give advice. Tell stories.
For whatever reason, I recently started thinking about what advice I would give to myself a decade ago if given the chance. Then I realized that was a stupid waste of time. First, because it’s a cliched exercise that only breeds cliched nuggets of meme-abley meaningless wisdom. Second, because I absolutely cannot, ever, give 21-year-old Natalie advice. She doesn’t exist. Finally, once you’ve written a book about a series your worst young adult decisions, you’ve pretty much exorcised those demons anyway.
Natalie Burg 