According to Facebook today is my eleventh anniversary as a published novelist. Eleven years ago today Evernight bought Storm Season, setting me off on this crazy adventure.

So much has changed since 2013. I lost one cat, gained two more, became an indie author and started writing MF romance as well as MM romance, went through financial tribulations, and had cancer last year. I also wrote a total of seventeen novels (sixteen as Nicola and my alternate history mystery as Melanie Fletcher).

Which is actually pretty good for someone of my generation. Yeah, I know Millennials and Gen Z can churn out tons of books a year because they have the energy and drive to do it. But for someone who is in menopause and is already missing a couple of body parts, seventeen books (eighteen if you count Shifter Woods: Claw since it’s 42K words which puts it into novel class) is something of an achievement. Of course that number would have been nineteen or twenty, but My Adventure With Cancer ate a good third of last year along with four teeth, five lymph nodes, and a strip of my jawbone.

So I’m busy playing catch-up this year and trying to finish those three books as well as the ones scheduled for this year, all while looking for contract tech writing or instructional design work because this house desperately needs a lot of repairs and I’ not making enough money from the books to pay for all of it. Oh, and I’m waving off my drunken slattern of a Muse who keeps popping up with new books ideas while I still have at least six to finish first. And yes, I’m completely aware these are First World problems and there’s a genocide going on and I’m incredibly lucky and should just shut up and be happy about my anniversary. I know this, truly.

It’s just that to me, money = time. I don’t want to be filthy rich—I do not have the temperament for it. I just want to have enough money where if the washing machine starts leaking or the refrigerator stops dispensing filtered water I can call a repairman instead of looking up ways to fix it myself, because that takes me away from writing. I want to have enough money so that I can pay for expensive CT scans and my medical insurance deductible for the year without fretting about how I’m actually going to cover that bill, because that takes me away from writing  (as an aside, if anyone needs cover art done my schedule is open and I’m ready to make something amazing for you). I want to have enough money to put solar cells on the roof with a battery so that if this summer is as hot as last summer I won’t constantly be worrying about the grid going down, because that takes me away from writing.

The ironic thing is, if I cranked out a bunch more books I’d make more money and a number of these problems would be eased. So I probably should shut up and get back to work.