I have an author page on Goodreads (and, on Amazon), and finding out this exciting news has made my entire day.
I never thought I’d have one of these, even as I thought about how I’d absolutely, without a doubt, become a writer. I was a pre-teen, scribbling down my ideas and writing out small chapters for novels that kept popping into my head. I knew that I was going to do something with writing, but I wasn’t sure what I would do.
I thought I’d go to journalism school, checking out the best ones, which meant leaving my province. I decided, before leaving thankfully, that journalism wasn’t the right stream for me, and landed on just a plain ol’ English degree. Exciting, I know.
Still, I knew I would become a writer. I almost had a job, just out of University, writing for a new magazine, but that venture went under. I don’t know why they thought it was a great idea to start a magazine just as all print was falling, but they gave it a shot and that’s all that matters. Still I held onto hope.
I didn’t do much writing, and did a lot of drinking for a couple of years, as most writers do. I traveled; I partied; I ‘gathered stories’ from my life. I wrote only when I felt the urge, which was a decent amount of time, but not nearly enough to actually make a go of anything. I was stuck in that weird writer world where I thought I’d get published just for writing…not, you know, actually trying to get published.
Over a decade later, literally, I started writing more seriously. I had been on Upwork before it blew up, writing for pennies, but quit to write my own stuff. I wrote on Medium for a company before I even knew what Medium was. I started a blog. Then, started a new blog. Then, updated that blog. Then, as of this year, I trashed that blog and started new. I also published my first book. It didn’t feel the way I thought it would, but that’s okay. Now that I have three books under my belt, it feels the way my teenage brain thought it would.
I feel excited. I feel like I’m a real author. All because of an author page on Goodreads. Self publishing can feel like you’re just writing things down in a notebook, or drawing on a piece of paper, hanging your poems and artwork on your fridge. It’s hard to feel like a ‘real’ author because you have no publishing house to back you up. No editor. No marketing persons. Just you and yourself reading through Amazon’s tips and trying to figure out just what in the hell you’re actually doing.
These two author pages, but especially the Goodreads as I did not make that one up myself, are what I needed to push myself forward. To publish more kid’s books. To finish those novels that have been sitting on my computer, collecting dust, abandoned and alone due to Imposter Syndrome setting in.
I may not be a New York Time’s bestselling author, but I’ve sold books. People, besides friends and family, have purchased my book. All I need to do is keep working, keep pushing forward, and maybe one day I’ll hit that list. And, if not, that’s okay, too. Because even without making a ton of money or hitting a bunch of lists, I’m still a published author.
Juniper and Daisies 