It’s been almost a year since I wrote a blog post about the end of my fourth book, Dickinstein. The two year contract it had with its publisher was drawing to an end and I chose not to renew.
I wrote Dickinstein in 2012, finishing the first draft in just 8 weeks that summer and believing it was the best writing I’d ever done. I still believe that. I haven’t written anything since.
This year I contemplated sending it out to agents, but I knew the mediocre sales record already attached to the book the first go around wasn’t going to make it all that appealing. If I didn’t believe in the book enough to try to make it successful, why should I believe someone else will? I could be wrong, but I figured it would be a waste of time.
So here we are.
A few weeks ago I decided to re-release the book myself. I gave it a new cover and dropped “Dickinstein” from the title. I think that’s a kick ass title and I was proud of it, but some friends joked that it sounds a bit X-Rated. So now I think the new title and new cover have some broader appeal.
Though our real-life Emily shared very few of her poems while she was alive, and even wanted her papers to be destroyed after her death, I feel my book should live on in some way. It seemed selfish of me to keep a good book to myself. What’s the good in that?