I have been uber busy with things over the last week and havent had much of a chance to write a proper blog entry but I will update you on the happenings behind the scenes. I have been networking with a ton of super Indie Authors from all over the globe. The stories I am hearing about their journeys into the publishing world have made me realize that there is no where else I would rather be. I am sure that one day I might have made it to a mid-sized imprint or maybe even landed a deal with one of the big six but I sincerly doubt I would have learned half as much as I have or made as many wonderful friends as I have.
In the last few days I have watched two great authors Miranda Stork and Suzan Tisdale release their new books Erin (Miranda) and Findley’s Lass (Susan) and watched the outpouring of support and well wishes from not only their fans but also other Indie Authors. It is and has been a wonderful thing to be a part of.
Over all I have to say in this case, while there is a lot of work to be done every day, it is great to be an Indie Author.
Not quite what you are thinking! 1000 words or less! Enjoy!
John Walker was your average police officer. He had been working on the force for the last twenty years and he had come to be known as a one of the rock steady and dependable ones on the force. The senior officers looked at him with pride and the younger ones looked at him with respect.
But he was ashamed of himself. He knew he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing but it was like an obsession with him. He lived the normal life with all the respect and glory. He preached about the difference between right and wrong in his day to day life. About taking care of yourself, and eating right.
He was however, leading a double life. And he felt ashamed. He knew he was a human and that it was human to sometimes fall from grace. But he still knew that if anyone found out about his double life and the things that he did in it they would never let him live it down.
It was not illegal the double life he lead, but he knew that it was immoral and he had learned over the years how to hide it. How to cover up for it if anyone got close enough to his secret, but every time he did he felt the guilt and shame wash over him like waves.
Why did he have this double life you ask? What was so bad that he had to hide it from his family and friends, but it wasn’t so bad that it was illegal?
Well he didn’t want to face the ridicule of being just another member of the force who had succumbed to this level. He didn’t want to be the cliché.
But he couldn’t help it. He had to do it. He had to have one. They called to him, some days to the point where he could hear nothing else until he fulfilled his needs.
They were deliciously sweet. The more he thought about them the more they called to him. He was feeling a need once again.
He got in his car and drove a mile and a half to the coffee shop and bought himself a Boston Crème donut.