It has been a journey to get to this day.
The day I can officially announce my very first, ever, book signing and poetry reading!
I have a book tour in the works (virtual and real world) as well as books available to purchase here on the site. You can also buy the book, real or Kindle on CreateSpace or Amazon.com
I am beyond excited.
Nervous.
Anxious.
Terrified 🙂
A thousand fears are yelling at the back of my head,
“What if no one comes?!”
“What if A LOT of people come?!”
“What if no one likes it?!”
I listen to them, these fears of mine. I acknowledge them and gently remind them why we created this book. That this was our dream and not someone else’s dream. I whisper how we are the only ones who have to love it. It calms them for a bit, until another fear shows and whispers, “but what if….”
It’s not easy to share your creative work. It can be scary when you realize that something you have connected with so deeply in the quiet confines of your workshop will be seen, read and perhaps *gulp* judged by others. I would imagine that even for the most traditionally successful and experienced creatives among us, those fears still speak up with each new reveal.
For me, what has been helping the most when the fears jump up is to remind myself why I wanted to create a collection of poetry and why I wanted to share it.
For starters, knowing that this was something I wanted to do makes all the difference.
I wasn’t pushed into it or coaxed into it. It wasn’t forced on me. It was something that deep inside I longed to see realized every since I was a little girl and first started to write.
When fears choked me out before (and believe me it has happened before-a LOT) I would put the book aside and say, “nah, maybe it’s not for me.”
And something interesting would happen.
I would start to be sad about it.
I would start to think about it again. I wanted to share it.
Sure I could have created it and just printed off a copy for myself and put it on my shelf.
I didn’t want to.
I wanted to share my poetry.
I wanted to hear what other people thought about when they read it.
I wanted to feel the joy when someone purchased a copy.
Most of all, I want to inspire others to make their dreams happen.
I know there is a lot of opinions on self-publishing.
I hear them ringing in my head even as I write this.
They appear when someone starts quizzing me about how I came to be “published.”
They appear when I start promoting my book and a voice whispers, “aren’t people going to think you aren’t really published?”
Here is what I have to say about all that.
Yes I have fears that whisper. I can, however, honestly say it has taken me 35 years but I feel I have embraced my inner rebel, my beautiful dilettante sista who does things she enjoys simply because she enjoys ’em. That woman does not measure herself by the traditional bars of degrees, prestige, status and most certainly does not feel that she needs the approval of anyone else to do what she feels is in her soul to do.
My rebel, on the other hand is a bit different than the traditional image.
She isn’t looking to fight everyone, break the rules just to break the rules or argue with the world.
No, my girl just wants to live her life her way and be left the hell alone to do it.
She kinda rocks.
When she pairs up with my Dilettante girl, well, those two can get into some shit.
It is scary the projects these two can come up with in one coffee-filled giggle fest.
The only thing that really gets them to dig in their heals and fight is someone saying,
“that is not the right way to do that.”
or
“yes, but the ‘publishing world’ or ‘true writers’…..”
The world is full or people doing things the way they should be done and between you and me, I don’t see the amount of happy people in the world that I would like to see.
Just saying.
So go ahead, have a gallery opening in your own living room.
Publish your own book.
Record your own CD and sell it at SmartWorld Coffee.
Do not let anyone define how YOU are supposed to send out your awesomeness to the world.
Rock on Creatives, Rock on!
Until Next time…..
Michele aka The Dreaming Dilettante