The Unexpected Blahs of Post-Publishing Blues

By Kathy Wagner

I never thought I’d write a book. Sure, I daydreamed about it; I imagined myself flustered by Oprah’s effusive praise or wearing a glittery designer gown while accepting the Nobel Prize in Literature. I mused over my literary fantasies in the same way I imagined how I’d spend my eighty-three million dollars of lottery winnings, even though I was way too practical to buy a ticket.

As a single mom with three kids to feed, the idea of spending decades of training, practice ...