I'll start by saying that I'm proud of my book. I am. Through all the self doubt and anxiety I have anytime I get a review that's anything less than perfect, I can remind myself that I made something. I wrote it, and I put it out there for the world to see. I love my book. It's the story I wanted to tell, and it's a story I enjoy reading. Some people loved my book and wouldn't change a thing. Others disliked certain parts or disliked it altogether. It's not for everyone.
That being said, I'm not shouting from the rafters "I wrote a book!" I'm not even whispering from the rafters. The day I published I brought in muffins to work to celebrate (the store had no cupcakes. NO CUPCAKES!) But I didn't actually tell anyone in my department that I was celebrating, much less what I was celebrating.
And why is that, you ask? Didn't you just say that you're proud of your book? Yes, I'm proud of my book. But writing has always been a very private thing for me, and I've found that many writers feel the same way. It isn't something I talk about at all. Of the few people outside of my immediate circle of friends that even know I write, they don't know what I write about.
I joke that Chance Assassin is a gay hitman love story. It is, of course, but that's not all it is. I honestly think I struggled more with writing the blurb than I did with writing the book itself. How do you sum up years of your work into just a few sentences? How do you tell an acquaintance, or even a stranger, that for the past how ever many years you've been thinking about nothing but murder, and hotel rooms, and the relationship between two men that you completely made up. I'm a crazy person! Buy my book!
I'm rambling, so I'll get to the point. I've decided to tell people. Well, one person. Maybe two. But I'm going to do it. I'm going to speak in a normal voice from the rafters "I wrote a book. It's about two men, well, one man and a boy, who fall in love and go around the country killing people for money"