Strays was a heart breaker for me. Everything that could go sideways in the release. Sales have been low. Reviews have been slow. I dislike even looking at the book.
There have been few times in my life I really felt awesome as a writer. It’s mostly self-loathe and whiskey. Decent bit of whiskey. Lotta bit of self loathe. I wrote the second book in a booth at what was the Middlesex diner. They kept my coffee full and my stomach fed. When the release date finally came, the diner was happy to host my release party.
That night people came from far and wide to support me. Many bottles of booze were drank. I read a pseudo sex scene in front of my mom and all of her friends. Luckily my sister, Brother-in-law and nieces had left by then. Three friends I had best manned for were there. A college friend I hadn’t seen in years drove six hours for it. Old room mates. Bosses. Coaches.
Writing is lonely.
That day I was not.
Strays may have disappointed, but the people I have in my life have not.