Publishing your first e-Book on Kindle is exhilarating. The fun part is clicking the publish button and see the word ‘draft’ sitting below the status header, knowing it will go live, after Amazon does whatever mysterious thing they do; the wait, according to Kindle Direct, anywhere up to twelve hours. It took my two books much less time.
Then the scary part. Sit and wait, wondering if anyone in their right mind will buy one of the books. Exhilaration gives away to anxiety. You tell yourself it takes time for readers to find your book. There is enormous competition. A zillion e-books to chose from. Book sales are easier if you write within a genre that is popular. A satire under the guise of baseball fiction, based on a true story from 1911, does not illicit excitement for those seeking romance, thrillers, paranormal, or young adult. My second book is a mystery, also based on a true story, and also with satiric elements. It has a better chance, and is selling better than my baseball novel.
But when you think you are done, when you think your books are live, you might discover something on your author’s bookshelf page that will jolt you like being shot with a Taser.
I do not recall what the problems was, but I had to update details of my novels. I do remember fixing it. But I did forget one little thing.
It is a good thing I have two traits that tend to save my caboose from time to time. One is paranoia. I know, no matter what I do, even if I think I did things right, something is wrong. It is called experience. I keep finding mistakes where I felt none existed. It is like proofreading. You read the same paragraph forty times. It looks perfect. Then a week later you read the paragraph and notice missing quotations marks at the end of the sentence. I must constantly proofread my life and what I did, because my paranoia instincts tell me something is wrong.
The other trait is obsessiveness. Somewhere in my loony brain little voices nag at me, whisper at me. The voice knows what is wrong, but it has trouble reaching me because we exist in different dimensions. At least that’s my story.
The little voices nagged. But at what? For some reason I went into my bookshelf page a few days later and when I looked both books were in draft status. When I saw ‘draft’ my body received the Taser jolt. What I discovered was that after updating details I forgot to click publish.
I corrected the problem, then began the sit and wait phase again, this time wondering if anyone had tried to download the book, or if anyone tried.
I do know that, though I find the e-world exciting, there are times when I think Shakespeare had it good. He just had the quill and ink to worry about.