I spent many hours wondering about the sense of going alone. I read extensively spoke to many people – opinion is split fairly evenly.
Don’t under any circumstances self-publish – agents, publishing houses only way to go; security, well oiled machine working for you.
Do self publish – keep control of the whole, the book, and the profits. Would it be stupid to go alone?
Suddenly I realised this is what I do. All my life. Want something, do something.
When I wanted to travel in my youth and found all my friends were after careers, mortgages and security, I travelled alone, for twenty years. I took control of where, what and how I lived. After the first scary months enjoying almost every minute of it and discovering new friends along the way.
When I came home and still found careers boring I went the craft route and wandered the agriculture and craft shows of the country selling my sculptures and silk clothes. Controlling my work hours and ethics and my enjoyment of work. After the first scary weeks I enjoyed almost every minute of it and discovered a whole new world on my doorstep that I knew nothing of.
Then, after saying once too often I wished I had had the opportunity to go to University, I yelled at myself to ‘just do it’. Menopausal hiccup or whatever, I did. I was in control of my mind. After the first scary days I loved almost every minute of it and discovered science and anthropology.
