For those of you who have been waiting, Unraveled is now up at the Diesel eBook Store and at Barnes and Noble. (This means we’re waiting on two more stores now: Sony and Kobo.)

Also, I’ve just approved the print version of Unraveled, which means it should start showing up at various establishments (like Amazon, B&N.com, and so forth) soon-ish, where “soon-ish” means somewhere between 5 days and 3 weeks. (Yes, I cringe, too–sorry!)  Actually, it’s already up on Amazon US. Buy it here. The print version of Unraveled is a trade paperback–which means it’s larger than the mass markets I’ve come out in before (no way to get around that), and, unfortunately, pricier.

For those of you who don’t want to wait that long, you can buy it right now from CreateSpace. The URL to buy it is: https://www.createspace.com/3740680

And because buying from CreateSpace is more of a pain from buying from Amazon, I’ve set up a discount code you can use for now. If you put in code 4NQ3HZ2S, you’ll get $2 off, which will bring the price down from $11.99 to $9.99. I wish I could produce mass-market print versions–but for now, it’s trade paperback, and I’ve done my best to price the trade paperback comparable to industry standards.

So let me tell you the worst thing about self-publishing.

The worst thing about self-publishing is the final build up to the end. Now, not only do I have to do page proofs, but I have to proof the proofreading, proof the copy-edits, proof the formatting… I read the book aloud twice during the proofing process, and then read it again in formatted version, and then read aloud every paragraph any time I have to make a change. I read my book about 10 times more self-publishing than I would if I were traditionally published.

And by the time I get to the copy-editing/proofing stage, I have already read the book 10-20 times, depending on the scene. It used to be that when I handed my editor the final version of the book, I despised it.

So I’m already sick of the book by the first copy-editing pass. By the time I’m doing my second read aloud–a truly painful experience–I want to hurl the pages across the room and stomp up and down on them. I put the work down every 50 pages or so and whimper, “Why me?” It’s not pretty. By the time I hit “publish,” I hate my book with a passion engendered of boredom and overwork and overexposure. I want to cry. I want to vomit with rage. (And in case you are wondering, I can tell a book is ready to publish because my fury at the thought of having to sit through another reading exceeds my pride in having something not perfect out there.)

Once I hit publish, something magical happens. People start reading it. And they tell me things like, “I loved this scene!” That scene? The one I read 25 times, and wrote 6 different ways? Really? You…you love it? They read it and by some strange magical alchemy, they usually do not want to vomit with rage. It’s the best present ever–to be able to rediscover the book through 1000 eyes.

So thank you to all my readers for making my book fun for me again.