I really wanted to post about this today but wasn’t sure where. I considered posting on Facebook, but I got the feeling it was going to be too long of a post. Then it dawned on me: I have a website! I forget that sometimes. You see, all the other blogs/websites I’ve had in the past have gone dead. Sort of like all of the plants I buy. I swear this time will not turn out like the last, but alas, they shrivel and go away.

I’m trying my best to nourish this website. Therefore, I chose to post here about my epiphany. Which, by the way, is one of my favorite words. Just say it. Go on… say it. You’ll see what I’m talking about once you do. It’s almost like a magical word. POOF. Epiphany.

Back to my epiphany. So, here’s the thing. When I first started writing, I never really thought about the AFTER part. AFTER I was finished editing for the millionth time, and the stories were truly ready to be set free. My agenda was clear. I was so immersed in my characters’ lives, I never gave much thought to publishing, promoting, reviews, all of the things that go along with releasing your babies to the wild, wild world. Simply put, I fell in love with writing. I fell in love with being swept up by powerful stories and interesting characters and writing by the seat of my pants. I loved not knowing what was going to happen next.

Then… I self-published. July 2, 2013 (my birthday, just in case you wanted to add it to your calendar, or whatever), Marigny Street was released. My first baby had left the nest. Then I started stressing.

What if no one enjoys it? What if no one even hears of it? Like, ever? What if I get all one-star reviews and a whole bunch of “I couldn’t even finish this piece of crap!” Refund! Refund! Refund! Now, don’t get me wrong. There was one thing I swore to myself that I would NEVER change. And that was the stories yet to be written. No matter how bad the reviews, no matter how many one-stars I received, I promised myself that I would always, always stay true to the stories that were still in the making. I never want my stories to be like “all the rest.” I never want to change who I am as a writer, as a story teller, just for the sake of having a story.

If I received a one- star, if I received “I couldn’t even finish this piece if crap,” I was receiving them on my terms. That I could live with. I couldn’t, however, live with myself if I adjusted everything I’ve ever felt or believed just for sales. Because true or not, you’re still going to get all of the above mentioned. Readers are smart. That’s why they read—because they are brave souls who give up control of the here and now, and allow authors and their stories to sweep them away to undisclosed journeys. If the story is a fluke, they know. And more important than that, I know.

But still, resolve in place or not, the not-so-great reviews sting. And I’m constantly in limbo. I’m still fumbling my way in the darkness of the publishing world. I’m still trying to plant my feet in my own unique platform. I never know if I’m doing the right things or not. I’m trying to balance my time between writing and editing and having something clever and unique to say on Facebook, all the while trying to keep my child happy, my husband content, my house clean, and at the end of the day, hot food on the table.

I was stressing… just a little. (Ha ha <imagine a creepy laugh here.>) But this morning, as I lay in bed trying to catch the million thoughts floating around in the purple abyss (I have a mood ring, okay?) that is my mind, I had … (POOF) an epiphany.

“We do not chase fireflies to know their ending destination; We chase fireflies just to watch them shine.”

As the thought floated by, I was reminded of something important: It’s not the ending of the dream that’s important, it’s the time we spend in that dream. It’s the time we spend in this moment. I don’t know the fate of my books, I don’t know if posting clever and unique posts on Facebook will help them achieve a higher ranking on Amazon, I really don’t know much. But this I did realize after my “E”—I have to stop stressing over the things I can’t change. I have to enjoy the moments when my books DO shine. No matter if they are ranked in Amazon’s top 100 or at the very bottom of the list. They are my accomplishments, my dreams, and if I don’t admire their shine, who will?

Those of you who have read Marigny Street, you will understand that this “E” probably came from somewhere Marigny-Street related. Those fireflies that Eva always dreamed of were exactly that—dreams of hers that had yet to be had. Even if nothing ever came of them, she still watched them, admired them as they burned brightly in the darkness of her mind, the hollows of her heart, as if they were stars in the night sky.

Does it matter where the books are going? Yes, in a way. Because like all great dreams, you want to see them come to pass. But it also feels good to let go a little. To let go and say, “I have confidence in the story. I have just a seed of confidence in myself. And those who are meant to read and be touched by my writing will.” It feels freeing to say those things to myself. And that’s all I can do. All I can do is sit back and admire the glow of those dreams, and essentially not worry about where they’re heading, knowing in my heart I gave them all I could, and the rest will find a way if it’s meant to.

XoXo,

Annie