Sometimes being an artist is disheartening.

I have a penpal named Chris. He lives in New England and I live in Gettysburg and we email every other week or so. Looooong emails! Not only does Chris create enjoyable, somewhat off-the-wall music... he also writes beautifully. In my last message to him, I was telling him about a few men I've had crushes on (and sometimes even dated) who didn't have the best teeth. I mentioned this teeth thing on more than one occasion in my email to Chris and so when he responded, his opening paragraph was as follows:

"First and by far most importantly, I appreciate your strange obsession with teeth. Teeth carry great import, as there are many teeth all around us all the time, and so life is not to be considered fully lived until these various teeth are taken into account. I will take this opportunity to recommend The Story of My Teeth by Valeria Luiselli. She is a treasure, and that book is quick, strange, and wonderful."

I've not yet read The Story of My Teeth (I only found out about it on Sunday morning), but I do intend to. One, because Chris recommended it, and two, because I am apparently more aware of teeth than many other people tend to be.

After his paragraph about teeth, Chris explored the idea of "making it" as an artist. It's something we've occasionally gone back and forth about in the past, because the thing is... being an artist is hard. You know my friend Bre? She cleans my teeth; I wrote a blog about her a few weeks ago. Well, the last time I was at the dentist, Bre asked me if I have someone in charge of my website and social media pages. I was like, "Nope. I do all of it," and she was astounded that I manage to balance everything.

I'll admit that balancing everything is quite difficult, but for the most part, I enjoy sales and marketing. I'm actually a really good salesperson! If I weren't in the field of teaching, and if I didn't like writing and art so much, I think sales would be my backup career. Either that or event planning. It's just that all this self-promotion stuff isn't especially fun when there's no immediate growth.

Growth doesn't happen overnight. I get that. I mean, if Harry Styles got his hands on a copy of The Way Back and told his fans about it, I'm sure my sales would increase drastically, but that's not real life. (Although, if you have a Harry Styles connection -- or a connection to any celebrities, for that matter -- feel free to recommend The Way Back to them.)

I guess I'm just feeling kind of... blah. I shipped out so many books and wrote so many handwritten letters and when I look at the map, the blue dots are disappearing rather than multiplying. It makes me really sad, you know? My marketing manager Mary suggested that this may be because people have purchased The Way Back and are no longer reading it online. I guess this could be true. But it still makes me sad when I see a drop in engagement. Does that make sense?

There are obviously good things that are happening in relation to my novel's recent release. I mean, I was ecstatic to receive that five-star Goodreads review from a complete stranger! Sharon, whomever she may be, totally reinforced the fact that I can write... aaaand I tell a pretty decent story.

Last night, I was texting with my friend Katie who is just an absolutely amazing human. We went to college together, and while we don't see one another on a regular basis, she has been soooooo supportive in my attempt to broaden my readership. She shares my posts on her Facebook page, tags her friends on my posts, participates in my #TheWayBackSelfie funness... Katie is terrific!

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm SO APPRECIATIVE to everyone who has gone out of their way to help me gain followers... but that even while I'm feeling appreciative, I am still sometimes feeling glum because I want to see results. Does that make sense?

As Chris so eloquently put it, "An artist is now kind of expected to be a half-businessperson (an entirely different skill set, needless to say) and promote [him/herself] through all the relevant, accessible-to-anyone paths that you already seem to be pretty adept at building a world (read: brand, after a long sigh) in. Which is fine, just a bit bizarre and distracting from the art at hand, that there's a voice quietly nagging you as you create: will this sell?" And then, because he is Chris and because he is wise beyond his years, he added in regards to writing, "We really don't do this solitary act for its own sake, we do it to reach out to other people, to identify with them, to give them a sort of hug through the page."

I think I am going to sign off here so that I can give myself a hug through the page. I've been neglecting Bas, Lucy, and Bert for weeks because I've been so wrapped up in promotion of The Way Back. But remember how I said in Saturday's blog that I experienced all those sleepless nights around the same time Bas was experiencing sleepless nights? Well, in the book I'm writing now, Bas has a major headache.

That's where I left off two or three weeks ago.

Guess who's been dealing with a lot of headaches lately? This girl. And I think I know why. Therefore, I'm off to do one of the things I do best: write fiction.