I Published An eBook and I'm Not Sure How I Feel About It

Mostly it was curiosity.  I wanted to know if I could do it.   Turns out I can.  So I did.  Now I feel weird.

It's really that easy?

 Amazon just opened it's big wide arms and tucked me up under it's smelly anybody-can-be-published armpit and plopped me on a shelf with a whole bunch of anybody-writers.

What about integrity?  What about endorsements and backing?  What about accountability?  What if I'd uploaded some filthy dribble not worthy of a moment?  What if it was the kind of thing that someone reads and then they beg for those lost hours back?  WHO IS IN CHARGE HERE???

Here is the truth: It took me around five hours to go from blank document to an uploaded product ready to sell.


I compiled the material I wanted to include, pulling from various poetry notebooks I've kept through the years.  I designed a cover.  I formatted.  I submitted. 

Goodness gracious...Published!...I mean, "published".

So why do I feel dirty?

 Perhaps the romance of a traditional publishing deal is archaic.  Or perhaps we'll just call this what it is - an experiment - and face whatever graces or ills it brings.  I suppose it can't do any real harm.  Unless it gets a terrible review - in which case I'll probably move to Nunavut and pour my efforts into saving the seals.

I will not claim that When We Were Young is any work of greatness but I still feel a marginal sense of pride over the words inside it.  As an eBook, there are definitely things I don't like about it - certain formatting that wouldn't translate, a table of contents that is not active, a preview that doesn't actually give you a glimpse of any poetry (and other things that I'm sure will bother me until the end of time until I do some more research and learn how to make it happen properly).

As a special promotion When We Were Young will be available for free from September 12-16.  I wish I could offer it for free indefinitely but Amazon won't allow that.  So, download a free Kindle App, download a little poetry, and let me know what you think...gently.

[If you're thinking about reading this on your smart phone I would suggest changing your settings to show it in the smallest font - the shape & format of the poetry seems to get all riled up when you try and squish it on that little screen.]

Alanna Rusnak writes honest blog posts reflecting her world as a mother of three, wife of one, employee of a church, and a lover of beauty over at SelfBinding Retrospect


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