As I mentioned in June, I quit ye olde teaching job in favor of not being beat up and getting to write stories of cute guys fucking all day. Props to me. But as Labor Day stares me in the face, I'm getting an odd feeling of being out of time and place. Labor Day has meant the start of a new year to me for a tidy few decades, much more so than January 1. Fall has always been new beginnings, new chances, new clothes and new school supplies. At The Most Awesome Job Ever, all Labor Day means this year is that a book came out, a book is in edits, I have print galleys due and another book due while a trying to keep new characters from trying to escape and take over. All of that is fun (except the print galleys), but they don't have that special connection to this time of year. Still not complaining because, see above, getting to write about guys meeting, fucking and falling in love is absolutely The Most Awesome Job Ever, but it's hard fighting the urge to buy new clothes or a pencil case.
We humans have been coming up with ways to tell time (Stonehenge, New Grange) almost as soon as we could count, so it seems like a pretty basic need to find a rhythm in the cycle of the year. That led me to thinking about finding a similar rhythm in my writing schedule. Does it matter when a book comes out? It seems to me that my books that release in March/April or December/January seem to sell best. May/June is okay. The slowest month for me for new releases seems to be August. Anyone have thoughts on that? Should I beg, borrow and steal to get books to come out December, April...and a month not August to get into a pattern? And how often is good for releases? Every four months? Every six? At what point do readers say, "I forgot she was still writing"?