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Today marks the eleventh anniversary of my first day as a full-time author. Of course, I’d started my writing journey years before then; but this was the day when I went full-time and never looked back. It is, in many ways, a celebration of letting myself have what I always knew I wanted. The permission to be myself.
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It took years of dreaming but not doing, about five minutes of finally deciding to just do it, and another eighteen months of serious effort; then the day after my thirtieth birthday, I left my job and entered the world of self-employed “authordom.”
Although I’ve never looked back, it’s been a series of ups and downs, starts and stops, and occasional disappointments. Part of me wonders now if I can even call myself an author as it’s been years since a book of my own has hit the shelves. Of course, I continue to write and share and help people publish their works while quietly yearning for my own to be born, but in most ways, I feel the title author is more appropriate than ever.
I always wanted to get here, even when I didn’t know it. The word author originally connoted ideas of origination and invention, of starting something new. But it also is closely related to the idea of being authentic. And I’d like to think now more than ever, I am settling into such a state. Finally at home with who I am (or at least, getting there).
For most of my life, I’ve made a habit out of writing things down. Lists, thoughts, ideas, story snippets, and opinions have always been how I’ve tried to make sense of a very confusing existence.
Where are we going, and what does it mean? How will it all end?
Write it down.
Why do bad things happen to good people, and are we really good or bad or just mixed up?
Write it down.
When my heart has been broken and I stupidly broke the hearts of others, I tried to write that down, too.
It all helped.
My writing rarely felt like a journal meant for private consumption. I always wanted others to read it, to consume what I was creating and find some comfort in what I was attempting to unpack. Maybe that’s because it’s what I was looking for whilst writing teenage poems in a spiral-ringed notebook, hiding in my basement bedroom, in retreat from the chaos of a world I didn’t understand.
The greatest gift to a writer is a reader, and I was always looking for that. I think we all are, writer or not. What life requires, maybe even demands, is the witness of an other who can see you in your pain, in your suffering, in your joy and triumph, and watch with empathy. And now, with a little more experience, some unintended scars, and hopefully a greater dose of perspective, I hope I can offer the same in return.
So on the first day of my forty-second year of life (yesterday was my forty-first birthday), it seems appropriate to share with you the first book I ever published. Not because it is the best thing I have written, but because in some ways it is the truest.
Like everything, I wrote this because I needed to hear it myself, needed someone to tell me “you are a writer.” And when someone finally did, it changed everything. So if a sign is what you’ve been waiting for, let this be that: You already are what you’re hoping to become. Now, it’s time to do it.
At least, that was the intention of You Are a Writer (So Start Acting Like One). The title comes from something a friend said to me when I was waffling about my dreams and he called me out on it.
“I don’t know what my dream is,” I said, sighing.
He shook his head. “Really? Because I thought it would have been to be a writer.”
I nodded, sheepishly, almost whispering, “Yeah, I guess I’d like to be a writer someday… but that’ll never happen.”
My friend paused for a moment then offered in kind sternness:
You already are a writer. You just need to write.
The next day I started writing and never stopped. Turns out, “someday” can come sooner than you think. I published You Are a Writer a couple years after that, first as an eBook, then converted the material into a course, both which helped me leave my job as a marketer and go full-time as a writer.
A few years later, when print-on-demand technology became a thing, I published it as a paperback, which helped the book find an even larger audience. It might be my bestselling work, as it’s traveled the globe and been downloaded, shared, purchased, and given away hundreds of thousands of times. In many ways, it’s my most important work because it was the start of something that hasn’t stopped.
Now, as a post-birthday present from me and a heartfelt thank-you for the years of support in this unlikely journey, I’m offering that first book for free for the next five days. You may already have a copy, and if you do, that’s great. Thank you. Feel free to share this with a friend, or take it as a nudge to pick it up and read it again (maybe for the first time).
If you don’t have a Kindle, you can use the desktop or smartphone apps or just read it in the cloud.
You’re welcome to leave a review or share this with a friend, but there’s no hidden intent here. I wrote this book a long time ago and just wanted to share it. Like any writer intends for anything they create, I hope you enjoy it. More than that, I hope it gets you writing—or doing whatever it is you’ve been waiting to do.
It really is incredible to step into the life you’ve always wanted but never thought was possible. It feels something like a rush of wind in the face. You may struggle to catch your breath, and it may take time to reorient yourself; but it’s better than wondering what could be. So, here’s to that, and hopefully at least eleven more years.
P.S. The free Kindle version may not be available everywhere (apologies, but I have no control over that). This offer is only good through April 5, 2024, so grab it before then if you want a free copy.
Thank you for reading The Ghost. This post is public so feel free to share it.
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