Here I am launching my book at Federal, near Byron Bay. I look so happy in this picture. I was an author — and look here was the proof.
A book with my name on it.
This all happened eight weeks ago and as I sit at my desk with my published book, new business cards that say ‘author’ and a framed poster on the wall of Losing February, I am finding it difficult to feel elated.
Within a short time, I have achieved so many of my dreams and I haven’t had time to take it all in.
• Complete a Masters in Writing – tick.
• Publish a short story in the UTS Anthology – tick.
• Publish a book – tick.
•Receive an email from a reader touched by my story – tick.
•Be invited as an author to the Byron Bay Writers Festival – tick.
•Be asked to launch someone else’s book – tick.
•Have a window display of my book in the city – tick.
It’s a long list, this ticking of dream boxes. So why do I feel empty.?
Yes, promoting the book and working full time has physically exhausted me.
Yes, it has all happened so fast. But at a time when I feel I should be celebrating I am wanting more.
The dream has changed and I am greedy. Ambitious, is perhaps a kinder word and there is nothing wrong with that. But not feeling grateful for all the good things that have happened, that is careless. And not like me at all.
So I am reminding myself about the art of being grateful. And there is nothing like a bit of practise. Gratefulness reminds me how I came to be here. In this place. At this point in time with my ticked dream boxes.
So being a list-kinda-girl, here are some of the things I am very grateful for.
• The people who supported me for years and years before my dreams became true — the writers, the dreamers, the people who said keep going and don’t give up. The friends and fellow travellers along the way. People in writing groups who took time to share their thoughts about my work. The people whose company I kept on this publishing road.
• The authors whose words inspire me to keep going and to strive to be a better writer. The writers who make me love stories and words.
• To friends who listened to me talk endlessly about my dreams of publishing. Especially the friends who don’t write and still listened to me rave about why the beginning of a chapter needed to be changed or how a single word could make the difference to the impact I wanted to make in my story.
• To the university lecturers who praised, critiqued and urged me forward with my writing. When the UTS Co-op Bookshop devoted a window display to my book, I expressed the thrill in a video. Click UTS Thank you
• To the music I listen to while I write. Up loud. To the technology that allows me to write — anywhere, anytime. To my study and beautiful rosewood desk given to me by dear friends because they knew how much it meant for me to sit at a desk I loved.
• To the publishers, my agent, copy editors, publicist and all those in the industry who make publishing books possible.
• To the people who have loved me. You have become embedded into my story whether I wanted you to or not. That just happens, naturally, without effort. You have become part of my story, visible and invisible.
Once I practise gratefulness, it becomes easy, like exercising. There is much to be grateful for even while the hunger builds to write another story.
I am thankful for the urge to write words, and for the mistakes I liberally make. Huge outstretched arms give thanks.
