Well, that time has come. The age where it all comes together… Right?
I’ve finally hit that golden nerd age of 42: the answer to life, the universe, and everything. Yesterday was my birthday, and overall, it was a pretty decent day. Did I get cake? Nope. Did I get lots of presents? Also no. But did I enjoy my day? Y’know what? I kinda did.
I slept like shit. I had my quarterly psychiatrist appointment. I worked. Had dinner with the family. Watched some TV with my husband, then went to bed early. Overall, though, it was a good day. I think I liked it more than some of the birthdays of the past when I’ve partied the night away.
I don’t have huge plans for 42. I mean, I’ll continue writing. I’ll try to up my marketing game. Get my name out there. I think I’m going to relax this year, though. Take it easy. Not stress so much.
Do I think this is the year I’ll make it big in the indie publishing world? Nope. To be honest, I don’t expect to get much further than I’ve already gone in that respect, shy of just producing more material. I’m just going to keep writing at my own pace, with the hope that I’ll eventually find my niche. If not, oh well. I can’t let my lack of comparative success eat at me too much. So what if I haven’t gotten the most sales? So what if I haven’t earned a solo bestseller title? It’s all relative. If I have even a few followers who enjoy my work, that should be enough for me. Yeah, I can’t quit my day job with only a few followers, but that doesn’t have to mean I give up.
Is this the answer–this kind of detached peace, this calm serenity? Maybe. Maybe this is the time in life where I come to the sensible conclusion, rather than the defeatist one.