The free-to-read period was over. The book should go premium tomorrow at noon.
My feelings were complicated, and my mood had been all over the place.
With my last book, I hadn't felt any pressure. I just put pen to paper and wrote. To be honest, after I ran out of my early stockpiled chapters, I was only a few hours ahead of the readers when it came to finding out what happened. I wrote purely by instinct and inspiration, making things up as I went along every day. An outline? There wasn't one.
I didn't dare say that while the last book was still updating, because I was afraid people would tear into me. Now that it was finished, I could finally admit it.
Strangely enough, writing exactly what I wanted, without worrying about the overall structure and all that, and putting out four thousand words every day, doing whatever I pleased and writing however I wanted, often brought on bursts of inspiration. There were even some scenes and chapters that I genuinely felt I'd written well.
The numbers backed that up, too. The average subscription count was four thousand, and in the later chapters, the number of readers who came back to subscribe within twenty-four hours sometimes reached two thousand. Those weren't impressive numbers, but as a newcomer who only updated four thousand words a day, I was satisfied.
When I started this book, I felt a lot of pressure.
The opening of my last book had quite a few glaring flaws and awkward moments. I hadn't realized it while writing, but when I looked back later, I had to admit... yeah, there really were.
So with this book, I genuinely tried to avoid those pitfalls. I kept revising the opening, the pacing, and the placement of the