Unwell is the story of one woman’s life: neither extraordinary nor fantastical, she nonetheless finds herself at an impasse few around her seem to understand, or even be aware of. She is pregnant, married, and has been told that she has everything in front of her, a life others would envy. Yet the only thing she seems to want is escape from the confines of her body, her life, and her family.

About the Author

Marie is a former teacher, education evaluator, and engineer. A lifelong student, she has degrees in chemical engineering, teaching, an MFA in writing, and a doctorate in educational leadership. Her writing focuses on bilingual and English-only children’s books that feature mixed families, as well as literary and contemporary fiction focused on Asian and Asian American characters.

Guest post by the author:

Pros and Cons of Publishing as an Indie Author

If I could quit writing, I would.

I’m not one of those people who always wanted to be a writer, nor do I think it’s going to be an easy (or even viable) career path. There are certainly things I’m more experienced at, career choices that are more lucrative.

But at some point, I started writing. And, before I really understood what was happening, it had become an addiction. I wrote, and when I was finally comfortable enough to start sharing these stories, I became an “Indie author.”

Initially, it was a false choice: I self-published because I’d contacted all of the agents I thought might be a good fit and learned that my feelings were, shall we say, unrequited.

Like a wallflower at a high school dance, I realized that I had two choices:

1.      I could sit the dance out. I could see to the music and pretend to be too cool to care.

or

2.      I could dance by myself. Rock out and hope that eventually, someone might join me on my particular section of the dance floor.

I think it’s obvious from this blog post that I chose the latter. The philosophy then, as now, is: Don’t be your own limiting reactant (you may be able to tell, from just that phrase, that I was once a high school chemistry teacher).

Now, I love the freedom that comes from being an “indie author.” Perhaps the three that I keep coming back to are:

First, I’m a control freak. Being “indie” means I answer to no one. I pick the cover design. I ask for tweaks. I get the artist to change the curve of the protagonist’s mouth, whether the eyes are open or closed, and so on. I’m sure that on some deep, psychological level, giving in to my OCD is unhealthy… but for now, I’m loving the control, and deeply appreciative that it’s due to being “indie.”

Second, I get to explore genres, without outside influences of expectations. I have no contract, no advance, no other commitments, no one to dictate what the “next thing” should be. Thus far, I’ve written four children’s books (one that’s out in two languages, one that’s in editing, and two that are being illustrated). I’ve just finished a collection of short stories, and am now starting my second novel. Whatever I want to write is… what I write. Should I start thinking about marketability and genres? Mabye… then again, maybe not. Either way, it’s my decision. Completely.

Third, my writing is getting out there. It’s a slow trickle right now. There’s been some strong-arming of friends as well as some exploration with blogs and social media, things that were heretofore foreign. I’ve had a facebook account for almost a decade… and there have been years where I haven’t posted. Not even once. Still, I’m learning, and more importantly, it’s happening. Strangers have read my work. Since even some of my closest family only “got” to read my stories for the first time within this past year… that feels like a huge accomplishment.

Now, that said, there are some admittedly large drawbacks to being not only “indie” but a total newbie within the publishing world:

For one, I’m my own boss… and that means that, true to form, sometimes I’m impossible to please. I set my own goals, which means there’s no oversight, no chance for discussion… often, I have no idea: Am I demanding too much? Or not enough? Am I slacking? Or do I feel like a failure for not-overachieving? And, of course: How much time is too much time to waste on such quasi-psychological meanderings?

For another, the pathway to recognition and success is both longer and more arduous. I’m fighting a perpetual chicken-and-egg loop of: No one’s heard of me, so no one wants to give me a chance… no one wants to give me a chance, because no one’s heard of me.

It’s expensive, and there are days when it’s hard not to feel like this is just one, really expensive, really time-consuming hobby. Then again, I have no real desire to travel the world. I’m scared of heights. I don’t swim. So I guess writing and the money I spend marketing my books is my Paris, my scuba diving, my bungee-jumping and trips to Australia… all rolled into one.

And of course, without the formal industry recognition that comes with contracts and big publishing houses, there is, inevitably, self-doubt. I can’t help but sometimes wonder: Is this destined to be more pastime than career? A year from now, two years from now, will I have gotten it out the system? Is this the first step in a lifelong journey? Or a footnote on the way to something else?

But… like I said. If I could quit, I would.

For now… I can’t. Which means that being “indie” is the only way I get to dance at this ball. I’m rocking out. I’m leaving it all on the dance floor. And at the very least, I know I won’t be faced with regret of not-knowing or not-doing. Which is, in itself, a victory.

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