From a recent guest post I wrote:
Why do I do what every indie writer does every single day?
Because I’m curious. No, scratch that. Because I’m obsessed.
This obsession can’t be stopped by the absence of a Big Publisher brandishing a goody bag of guidance and media connections. This obsession won’t be quieted by the lack of a sizeable advance propping up my bank account or the implicit promise of three martini lunches in suit-and-tie restaurants. With tablecloths. And flowers. Or not.
In fact, my obsession — perhaps I should be calling it a sickness by now? — isn’t even disheartened by this apparently endless wandering among the parched, wind-blasted dunes of NoSales Desert.
My characters, my stories, my books steamroll everything else into oblivion.