Okay, I'm beginning to figure out what's wrong with me. It's post-partum book depression, which has sacked me every single time I've published a book so I don't know why I forgot to expect it this time. The pattern is always the same: I publish a book and then become frozen and glum and can't figure out how to promote it in any way, and I start having anxious dreams and every rejection letter feels like a bull moose falling out of an airplane and the last thing I want to do is talk to anyone about anything. I suppose this is why real writers have marketing agents.

I do feel slightly better now that I know what's going on. It's bound to run its course; it always has.

Though of course there's an obvious question: why do I want to publish books if publishing books makes me miserable?