Ten years ago today I self-published my one and only novel, which with characteristically epic pretension I titled “The Weapon Of Young Gods.” For various reasons back then, I needed to unload something, and wanted to see if I could do that like this. Perhaps improbably, I did it.

Yep, 7/2/12 marked the end of about five years’ worth of outlining, writing, blogging, editing (helped by beta-readers), designing (I did the cover and layout) and even recording (I created my own ambient music to write to) which I jumped into head-first in mid-2007. Finishing was hard, but I made it happen.

It’s kinda problematic (its influences are easy to spot, it fails the Bechdel test, it’s full of tropey clichés, it’s sprinkled with cultural appropriation) and reads like it was written by a young man in a hurry (except I was 35 and it took 5 years). Even so—I wrote and self-published a book! I should be proud of that, right?

It helps that several people whose opinions matter to me were super-stoked to read it, and afterward said really nice things about it, and I’m still really proud of that instrumental ambient soundtrack, so maybe overall it’s a good notch in the belt. And today it turns 10, so happy dang birthday, WOYG.