Next

I recently received my first sales numbers for Struggle Central: book quantities and dollar figures for the month of May.

I wasn’t surprised; wasn’t too shocked one way or the other. I sold right about as many copies as I expected or “deserved.”

While I’m grateful for the new influx of funds after what I put down to self-publish Struggle Central, the sales themselves are only the icing on an already lavish cake.

31 Amazon ratings. Most of those 5-star.

31 Amazon reviews. Most of those beyond affirming.

Countless other emails, Facebook messages, tweets, texts, and phone calls — precious correspondences from friends, family, acquaintances, and total strangers I’ve never met and yet now suddenly yearn to meet and thank and hug in person.

I consider myself blessed. So very blessed; the hard long journey, so very worth it.

And yet.

I cannot help wondering what’s next. The next iteration of Struggle Central — predictable paperback or alluring audiobook? — and even my next book itself.

I actually have ideas for my next several books (here’s a healthy hint), but when will I be “ready” to break ground on Book #2? When will I start that horrible drafting process, when will I let others review it, and when will I debut it?

Am I ready now? Or must another month or two or seven first progress? Should I just wait until after STORYLINE for any further writing revelations?

But moving beyond the next writing endeavor…

What about the next job, tutoring or otherwise? What about the next ministry opportunity with youth or what have you?

What about the next life experience? What about my next half-marathon or next impromptu road trip?

What about the next precious friend who changes my life? Or the next friend whose life I inexplicably change?

And even moving beyond this next year…

What about the next living situation? The next home before Home?

The next wandering?

While publishing Struggle Central certainly tops my list of quarter-life accomplishments, I cannot help feeling this mountaintop is only the beginning. The commencement of an author’s journey, sure, but the start of something else altogether.

The beginning of a new identity. A new existence.

A next new breed of wanderer.