Saturday, October 16, 2004


I've already written seven books this year, and I have two more to finish before December 31st. All nine of these novels are sold to major publishers, and eight of the nine will be published in 2005, making this my most prolific and successful professional year.

Other writers have told me that it's frightening and intimidating that I can write this fast and sell this much. But that doesn't matter. There is always someone who can write faster or sell more. I'm not in competition with anyone but myself, and I already know that I'm a bitch to beat.

Nine books are just shy of a personal goal of mine. I want a ten book year.

It's not about having more books in print, although a healthy backlist is never a bad thing. It's about speed, and ability, and memory, and trust. I want to push myself to the limits, and ten books in twelve months is the fastest I think I can ever write (although when I write ten I'll probably shoot for eleven afterward. I'm never satisfied.) I feel I have the ability to write ten books that fast if I stay focused; I've written up to nine. Memory, which is a huge part of writing, is not a problem. Trusting
myself . . .

I didn't get here by allowing people to shake my confidence in myself. Oh, my ego has been dented, plenty of times. But the basic foundations, built long before I ever met another writer, go deep. Say whatever you like about me, and no matter what it is, that foundation doesn't twitch. I write fast, and I write well. At the moment -- which in this industry could change, at any other moment -- I am selling like crazy. I've written and published more books in the last six years than most writers publish in a lifetime. I have nothing to prove to anyone anymore.

Except me. I'm not done, and I'm not satisfied, and I'll be damned if I'll sit back on what I've accomplished and pretend it's enough.

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