I did a thing this week.
I left my job.
I already posted about this, but now it’s officially happened. My last day was yesterday. It was eerily similar to the day I decided I couldn’t let that job be my life anymore. I guess it was an appropriate send-off. I finished my day, sat in my car for an hour trying to get home because of a Trump rally (deep, calming breaths on that), packed a bag, and took off for my parents’ place.
I have my own place. I’m financially solid. Don’t misunderstand that. My parents live on the Indian River in Florida, and they’re out of town this week. I’m cat-sitting. And as I sit here typing this, I’m also staring out at Kennedy Space Center and the rocket set to launch tomorrow (well, originally last night, but they’re postponed a lot).
It is idyllic. I needed this.
And I am extremely lucky right now. I haven’t had any disasters in a long time, and I happen to not have much in the way of expensive tastes. I don’t do fashion or make-up. I don’t drink or eat meat. I’m not into cars or video games or concerts. I worked concerts for a decade. I love live music, but I get mad paying for tickets. This vacation is way better to me than a cruise or a trip around the world. It’s all luck that my tastes happen to be really cheap. Just like, in these times, I’m lucky to be an introvert. And all of that means I’ve been able to save up enough money on $14/hr to pursue a dream for at least a little while.
And put in some fucking work. This is my first day off, and I’ve already watched 4 hours of marketing webinars. I made breakfast to webinar, I did my yoga to webinar, I didn’t pause webinar until I started this post. I know I can write, and I know I cannot market. I need to do more writing, but I REALLY need to do real marketing.
This isn’t it. This is a ramble and, if anything, negative marketing, because this is how I tell you all that A Halloween Angel For Hazel just came out. And as much as a lot of these marketing advice snippets say that newsletters should be personal, subscribers don’t want sales flyers, the newsletters of all the NYTBS authors I subscribe to ARE sales flyers and that IS all I want from them. Don’t bury the pitch under a story about growing up in Boise like a recipe blogger. But here I am recipe blogging.
Also, I’m going to write alien romance after I finish Candy For Demons. This is a really dumb move, as I feel like the demon and alien romance markets don’t cross so much, but I am inclined to do dumb things. I WILL continue doing demon stuff (and maybe shifter? I don’t know, that was a colossal flop), but I’m going to spread my wings a bit more, first.