JoAnna Santanen
I have spent the better part of the past two years running away from being an author. I have backed away from my career in shame, aburptly, and for no apparent reason. Maybe the stacks of form rejection letters from agents and publishers broke my stride or the fact that I haven't had much success in business lead me to believe I wouldn't be successful in publishing. I don't know what really happened. I started making some progress in building my readership, then I just abandoned ship.
When my friends, who are also fans of my work, would mention my novels, I would feel a twinge of grief. I knew I was letting the dream (of being a full-time self-sustaining author) die inside me. The grass is always greener where you water it, but man, I had turned off the sprinkler. I quit writing.
I told myself that I didn't like the aspect of self promotion in indie publishing. I thought that letting people know about my books, which they might even really enjoy, was somehow dirty. I was letting the business of being an indie publisher make me feel like I was being dishonest in some way. I would tell myself that the business had ruined the art.
I hold a damned Business Management Bachelor's degree. Business is my business. I was lying to myself. I was making excuses for my "failure" which hadn't actually occurred. My books weren't raking in the dough, but they were bringing in something, which meant in that regard, they were already a success. That's probably what scared me the most.
I can't just declare that I'm an author and then suddenly, be one, could I? Yes, I could. I wrote a book and published it (two, actually). Is there another definition of author that I'm missing here? No. There isn't. I'm an author and where I was once proud to admit it, I had suddenly become ashamed. I had let myself go so far down the shame spiral, I almost couldn't bear to call myself an author anymore.
It all boils down to self confidence. As with anything, self confidence is key to getting what you want. You have to be willing to put yourself out there, to risk looking like a fool. I was shaken by some changes in my family, my life and my employment. I let my fears overtake my goals. I let my insecurities spread into my work, and though nothing had changed, suddenly I was telling myself that I'm a hack who shouldn't quit my day job (if I actually had one). My negative self-talk bled into my identity (as a person and as an author) and suddenly, I felt like an impostor.
I was a horse who was out to pasture so long I forgot there was a barn I could go back to.
I have a room in my house that's crammed full of art supplies and papers and books. Its my studio & office. I am so lucky to have space that's just for creation. I let it get sullied with a bunch of stuff that shouldn't be there and it stopped feeling like a room of inspiration and more like a storage locker. Yet another obvious resistance to writing, I was treating my work space like a junk drawer.
Last week, I went to the library searching for some inspiration. I picked up the 2015 copy of Writer's Market, even though I already knew I wasn't going to query my work to any publishers or agents anymore. I just wanted to feel a little pride in the idea of being an author. I also grabbed a book about self-publishing. Unlike Writer's Market (which has been sitting on my counter for the past week unopened), that indie publishing book took me by the hand and drug me out of my self-imposed prison. I devoured it. I am a changed woman. (If you're into writing, you MUST READ: Write. Publish. Repeat. by Sean Platt and Johnny B. Truant.)
This book just reminded me that I was doing everything right before. Being an author is a career. One that takes work and perseverance. I have all the skills and I love to write. Though I have neglected my career for more than a year, I don't have to start over. I can pick right up where I had left off. I am back in the driver's seat. I am finding my voice, again, and it feels really good.
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