It’s time to talk about the elephant in the room: Secrets in Seaport.
In the past few years that it’s been in print, I think a total of eight copies have seen the light of day, three of which were purchased, not gifted to friends. Suffice to say, it didn’t sell well and in hindsight, I’m glad it didn’t.
It’s not that good. It was an impulsive endeavor by someone who decided they should at least try to self-publishing something of more than three chapters before they grow too old to enjoy teen author status, and so it was rushed. While it may have been a good example of my writing skills at that point in my life (read: the winter, spring, and summer of 2014), it is absolutely positively not an accurate (or flattering) reflection of my current skills. The only thing Secrets in Seaport does for me now is give me the bragging right of calling myself a published author, and I can’t say I enjoy it that much.
I don’t see myself as a “real” published author. I did what any kid with an ego and a mid-teens crisis could do – I printed a book with CreateSpace, that’s all. On the bright side, that does mean I know how the process works. That’s actual helpful experience.
Honestly, I’m inclined to unpublish it. But would that mean I’m not a published author anymore? More importantly, if impulsiveness proved to be foolish the first time, should I take a different path now and ignore this potentially destructive impulse? I’m never going to revise it; I could, eventually, but I won’t. I’m not inspired.
Perhaps what I ought to do is keep it around for a little while longer, let Cliche get published with a bit more care, and have that speak for itself in terms of how good I am at writing now. Given the effort I’ve put into it, if Cliche proves to be sufficiently better than Seaport and not another embarrassment, I can reevaluate my options then.
