The Book is Out. Now What?

On October 8, The Colors That Haunt Us was released. It was also my birthday, so I spent a good part of the day watching the Twilight movies and playing Twilight bingo. I posted about the book in a few Discord servers, checked on things when I could, and tried to keep up with everything else going on.

I had imagined this day for a long time. I had not imagined spending so much of it wondering whether people had received the books they ordered.

I'd preordered someone else's book recently. My sister got her copy on release day. Mine turned up two days later. So I knew that a release date on a listing didn't mean a copy would land in someone's hands that morning. Knowing that did not stop me from worrying about it with my own book.

The day after, I woke up and went on with my life. I started planning another story on October 9. I don't think I felt anything dramatic when I opened my eyes. The book was published, and I had things I wanted to write.

That feels about right for me.

The Part Before the Release

The first time it truly hit me that I was going to have a published novel wasn't release day. It happened about a month earlier, when I held a proof copy I was ready to approve.

It took three proofs to get there.

I had known from the start that I wanted an actual painting on the cover. I also had a fairly specific list of requirements. The painting needed to show a woman without showing her face, come from roughly the 1880s to the 1910s, and allow commercial use. I thought finding one would be easier than it was. Then I made the first version of the cover, misread the template, and discovered that the whole thing was off. I still have that proof copy.

By the time the third proof came, I'd stared at the cover and the inside of the book so much that I could barely stand to look at them again. But I was happy with that copy. I could approve it. After years of writing and editing, there was a physical object in my hands that looked the way I wanted my book to look.

I am still particularly proud of that cover.

Editing was one of the hardest parts of this process. So was coming up with titles and descriptions. Marketing graphics deserve their own place on the list of things I never want to do more than necessary. Even with a checklist, publishing a book involves so many little tasks that are easy to underestimate until you're the one doing them.

Before I decided to publish it myself, I queried The Colors That Haunt Us. I got a lot of rejections. Some came down to the length, which I understand. I came close to giving up on publishing it at all. Eventually I decided, in somewhat less polite words, that I'd do it myself.

And I did.

I Can No Longer Follow the Book Around

I saw that a friend on StoryGraph was reading The Colors That Haunt Us, and my heart practically stopped.

I know people are supposed to read books. That is generally the point of publishing one. I also know I have no idea what to do with the knowledge that someone is reading mine right now.

More than 500 people have added it to their StoryGraph to-read lists. I once saw a visual that showed what follower counts and other social media numbers would look like as a group of people standing in front of you. I keep thinking about that. Five hundred people are a lot of people. Even knowing that adding a book to a list doesn't mean someone will read it, the number is hard for me to picture.

I still feel like the story is mine. The book feels different now. Someone can pick it up, read it, get angry with a character, cry over a scene, or decide halfway through that it isn't for them. I won't be in the room. I won't get to explain what I intended every time someone interprets a scene differently.

I'm particularly nervous about the epilogue. I wrote it with a specific reading in mind, and I hope that comes through. I'm also looking forward to people reaching the end of Clara's story. Ideally, at least a few readers will want to throw the book.

It's a gothic tragedy. Sorrow and hopelessness are perfectly acceptable responses as far as I'm concerned. The ending has some sweetness to it, too, and I'm happy if readers find that instead.

And I hope readers disagree with me about the characters. I want people to love characters I hate, hate characters I love, and notice things I didn't consciously put into the story. If I'm lucky, someone might make fanart or write fanfiction. Someone might recommend it to a friend, or tell that friend exactly why they couldn't stand it. I'll probably want to step in and explain things sometimes. I'm going to try not to.

Some Things I Hope People Find in It

I knew what kind of book I wanted to write before I started. A sapphic gothic tragedy. A story about painting, and someone bound to a manor that might not even exist. The finished novel is close to that early idea. I added a few scenes late in the process, but the heart of it stayed the same.

One of the things I hope queer readers connect with is the experience of being trapped by other people's ideas of who you are. People can be wrong about you for your entire life. In this story, death doesn't necessarily stop them. Sometimes you have to be the one to paint your own portrait.

Years ago, someone left a comment on a fanfic I'd posted to AO3. They said the way I described a character's gender matched their own experience so closely that they used the story to explain their gender to a parent. I still think about that comment. Knowing a story helped someone put words to something personal is one of the best responses I've ever received to my writing.

I don't expect every reader to see the same things in The Colors That Haunt Us. I hope some of them find something that matters to them, whether it's what I meant to put there or not.

There are also things I miss from earlier drafts. I did a ridiculous amount of research into bathing in the 1890s and used none of it. Sometimes I wish I'd kept a few more of Suzette's small tirades about 1890s culture. I could keep revising this book forever if I let myself. Having a published edition means I have a reason to stop.

That part is a relief.

Apparently, I Have More Books to Write

I've been writing for over a decade. The first novel I wrote was terrible, and I've written quite a lot since. I would still consider myself an author if every manuscript stayed on my computer. Having a physical book with my name on the cover is wonderful, but I don't feel like I've changed careers or become a different kind of person overnight.

I don't even know that I've spent much time thinking about the phrase published author.

Most of what I expected about this experience has been accurate. I didn't expect publication to change my daily life. I didn't take a long break once the book was done. I worked on other manuscripts while proofs were being reviewed. On October 9, I started another project. There are edited books in my backlog, one waiting for feedback, and at least one that is closer to release than people might think.

I've learned some things for next time. I want to change how I handle distribution, especially for Amazon and Barnes & Noble, while keeping IngramSpark in the mix for libraries, independent bookstores, and ebooks. I also learned that I dislike refreshing a sales report to find out whether anyone preordered, especially when the reporting doesn't show me everything I want to know. At the moment, ebook sales figures are another thing I have to wait to see.

I feel proud of this book. I have a hard time sitting still long enough to appreciate that pride. I already know what needs work on the next one, and I have stories I want to get back to. Still, publishing this one has made the next release feel possible in a way it didn't before. I know I can get through the process because I have already done it once.

If I could tell the version of myself who started The Colors That Haunt Us one thing, it would be that the work was worth it.

Right now, I'm relieved that it's finished and terrified that I've somehow done it wrong. I can live with that. People have the chance to read it, and I get to see what happens when they do.

If you've been considering picking it up, give the first chapter a chance. If you're not enjoying it, you don't have to finish. I would much rather people read stories they want to read.

As for me, I have another manuscript open. That seems like a pretty fitting way to mark the end of my first release week.