Six PDF files, Four graphics, four days, three formats and two books. It's been a hectic weekend (yes, my weekends are four days long; jealous?) but I have both my books – Postcards and Son of Postcards – revamped, re-priced and republished on Amazon, Kindle and Smashwords. (But don't tell anyone, it's a secret; I'm not announcing the re-release until 1 March.)
Materially, it's been the most productive few days I can remember in a long time. So why don't I feel like a writer?
Probably because I haven't actually written anything. In fact, I haven't written anything substantial since Christmas Day when I finished up the final draft of my Ireland book. That's a long time for someone like me to be doing nothing but the occasional post and researching Spiritualism and Home Schooling in the UK.
Somehow, no matter how much time I put in doing writer-type things, unless I end the day with some new words created on virtual paper, I feel like a guy who used to write, not like a writer.
When I get to the end of a major work, I feel really good for about two days, then I start looking at my writing log and noticing there are no Words Per Day adding up and I start thinking that maybe I should write something, anything, just to keep the momentum going.
But I can't simpy jump into a novel; I'm one of those people who research a novel to death and then make a detailed outline that falls apart after the third chapter. So I research and try to convince myself that, yes, it actually is writing, of a sort, even if it doesn't involve tapping keys and watching words accumulate.
All this formatting work may be behind me, but very soon I will begin production work on the Ireland book, so I know it will be some time before I can even get back to the non-writing work of researching the next novel.
I'll get over it; especially when the proof copies of the books arrive and I can hold them in my hands and oh and ah over them. Then I'll feel like a writer again, for a couple of days, at least.