---> Currently, I’m sitting in my office freezing my ass off and wearing my husband’s fleece coat (I can’t find mine but that’s a different story). Any who, I should be running or drinking coffee and working on my WIP––but alas, I am not. It’s been a shit storm of a week. My car needed a brake light, I got the flu shot and discovered the most amazing section of vibrators (personal massagers) at the drugstore, and somewhere in there I wrote like 30k.

I’m stuck on a cover and a title because my brain really is not allowing for any more creativity. That being said, I sat up on Monday night with a severe bought of insomnia. I admit, I thought about the ring of bliss at the drugstore but mostly this. This being my writing, my books and my readers.

I’m working on my sixth book. I’m not a USA TODAY Bestselling Author (yet) or a NY Times List Maker. On paper, my books have achieved marginal success in a market flooded with romantic tall tales. They have hit a number of Amazon lists and been highlighted by iTunes. My mom sometimes sells copies out of the trunk of her car, and I’ve sold out at both signings I attended.

So, why would I be up at night?

I don’t know. It was a general feeling of unrest. Am I reaching enough readers? Am I responsive enough to my current readers? What could I be doing better?

I try to do one sale per month because even at $2.99/ebook, there are a lot of really awesome books out there and I want readers to buy them all.

A reader asked for Kindle Unlimited, and I put one book there. Not because my PR person told me to do it, but rather a reader.

I offer up contests and giveaways. I answer emails and messages––which I happen to love every millisecond of.

I take time away from dinner and bedtime to be present in my author group.

What could I be doing more or better? How could I engage wider?

That’s what I spent most of my sleepless hours dreaming about––meeting more readers, being closer with my current readers, and of course, working the RING ‘o BLISS into my current WIP.

The week sort of peddled on after that. I holed up quite a bit and just wrote.

Then a reader shared this with me on Facebook and I thought, I’m doing something right.