Disclaimer: This is not a rant.

With the onset of (minor) success, I've found myself half-consumed with writing, marketing, and promoting, anything that might enable me to reach more readers, and gather more of an audience; and continue to engage those who've already decided to follow me. So I find myself in front of this computer, scouring the web, writing content, doing interviews, and overall just DOING. This is not a bad thing, of course. As an indie author it's square on your shoulders to get your name out there, and to bring forth a following. The best method for that: content. But content takes time. And time is a fast-moving bastard.
    Before, I had a craving to write, a hunger of sorts. Writing would satiate this deep hunger. The more I wrote, the more satiated I felt. Now, it feels like no matter how much I write or connect with readers I'm never filled up. There's always more to write, more to say, more websites to visit. I've developed this bottomless chasm of necessity.  I have to get my word out, I have to get my image out, I have to get my voice out. This is stinky hard work, and results are slim and sordid. I can put it in some kind of perspective: I'd almost rather chop down a tree, turn the lumber to paper, and hand write messages about myself which I would then send out by wild pigeon. Come to think of it, I might make more of an impression with that method. Because who wouldn't read a scrap of paper pinned to a wild animal? If life has taught us anything, it should be that animals carrying messages are super important.
    My focal point here is that being a nOOb self-published author is a time-suck on a level I never imagined. It's the whole package of writing, exposure, and connectivity. The writing part is easy, it's the getting people to notice the writing that's hard. So in walks this here blog, and up sprouts posts, and out go links. The return? Not too shabby really, but nothing I couldn't fend myself from armed with sharpened sticks and fire.
    (I look forward to a fanbase on the scale of nations.)
    Of course, this too shall pass, as all things that are frustrating and exhausting do. It's only empty work when nothing of substance is produced. I take a great measure of comfort in knowing that my stories are wonderful and enjoyable, and that people are reading them. This makes writing all the better. Spending hours marketing is blunted when I sit down to write. That aspect of consumption I can survive. When I write, I don't sense time-decay. I can see the creation of something amazing before my eyes. That is worthwhile time. Safe time.
    Although this post may seem like a rant, it's not (as stated in the disclaimer). I'm privileged to communicate my ideas and imagination with others. I enjoy talking about writing, and about what I write. I like meeting people who share my interests, and to hear their thoughts. These are rewarding things that I appreciate more and more as I understand that my struggle and hard work are paying off a hundredfold.
    Thanks to all of you who are reading me. I promise great things to come.