I published a book. Let the judgment begin.

Honestly, I’ve been sick to my stomach for about a week. That’s when I signed off on the production of my first novel. Ever since I have been physically ill. Not happy. No. Physically ill.

Why?

Because even though I am extremely proud of this story, I know that basically flashing the world with my thoughts opens me up to criticism. It isn’t that I’m not confident in my writing. I worked hard to approach my editing as if I were a reader, reading this book for the first time. I located the plotholes, removed/fixed them. A few smaller ones remained, because I liked them.

Sue me.

But I spent time trying to imagine how a reader would read my book, and ensure that the read was as believable and entertaining as it could be. Something which made sense to me. It’s nice and fluffy and probably an easy read, but that’s okay, because every time I read this book, it just makes me smile. I am in love with these characters and miss them when I am not writing them.

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I suppose that’s why I chose to self-publish. So many agents stated that my book just didn’t work for their lists. Fine. I didn’t write it for them. I wrote it because I heard the characters and they had something to say. I wrote it for me. Though I totally admit that I was not prepared for the toll the rejection would have on me.

But then I remembered: I’m not writing for them.

I don’t have the thick skin I need for the publishing world yet. I’m still ill. Maybe those agents were right. Maybe I should just write for me and not publish. But I can’t imagine that this story I have cultivated for the last three years isn’t meant for a wider audience, because once I finished editing it, all I wanted to do was share it.

People need to know the characters. They want to be known.

So I did it. I pulled the trigger. As of August 14, I will have my first novel available for readers. I’m getting over the uneasiness in my stomach. After all, this is what I have been dreaming of since I was eight. This was the path I wanted to take. Now I’m here and there’s no turning back.

I suppose I’ll go open that bottle of Writer’s Block Cabernet when the day comes, and the book is live. I’ve been holding on to it for a while now, just for this occasion. The world will see my goods, and approve (hopefully), then ask for more (again, hopefully). But really, more will just be written for me. Because they are always written for me.

 

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My debut novel will be available on August 14. More details to come.

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