It’s been a whirlwind since January. And for the first time in a long while…that’s a good thing.

After more than 2 years of writing on the sidelines and keeping it under cover, I decided to share my story with some great Beta readers last Fall. It was eye-opening to see what was working and what wasn’t, at that point. But that feedback was valuable. It also caused an epiphany. I needed clear feedback specifically for my genre. Problem was…I wasn’t exactly sure where my story fell. Genres these days go far beyond basics. The days of simplistic Mystery, Romance, Sci-Fi, for example, are gone. Replaced by Romantasy, Magical Realism, Dystopian, Cozy Fantasy & Mystery, Contemporary Fiction, Literary Fiction, Commercial and Upmarket, the list goes on and on; it can make your head spin.

It was not an easy decision to take that leap of faith and invest in myself and my writing. But the pay-offs were huge. Not only did I find two amazing, intelligent, talented and supportive editors…but it showed me how much I was capable of growing with the right direction.

After having some stellar literary coaching sessions, re-writes, a professional manuscript evaluation, re-writes, deletions, plot changes and character additions…a developmental edit, major revisions, rewrites, MC interiority work and a complex rearrangement of chapters…I have Draft 9 and a deeper, richer story.

I’ve always had the belief that you never stop learning and bettering yourself. To me, it’s the best use of free will. In the past year alone, I have honed in on the craft of writing, learned how to crochet, and spent time working on myself to overcome some substantial grief and trauma from multiple losses. I’m not saying all this to brag…well, maybe a little. I did all that while working, supporting a family and managing a very bossy Chorkie. I say it more as a validation.

Most of my life has been a “what if?” What if I embarrass myself? What if I fail? What if my anxiety takes over and everyone notices I’m not strong? What if something goes wrong?

I’ve forced myself to sit with this and where it got me. Anxiety was non-negotiable. It’s hereditary and proven that outside sources, whether local to your community or globally, help to feed that ugly monster. But you know what? My success rate is 100 out of 100% for surviving those hard days.

It’s turned into: What’s the best that could happen?

What if I was afraid of wasted opportunity more than putting myself out there? Allowed myself to choose fear instead of comfort. And instead of growing and learning behind closed doors, did it out in the open to see where that takes me? During this second stage of my life, I find myself gravitating more to the opinion of “You don’t have to be just one thing in this lifetime. Be the lawyer who opens a coffee shop, the engineer that becomes a professor, or the bookkeeper who writes a novel.” Follow that passion.

Long story short (although the long is pretty important), I wrote a novel. A full length, forty-five chapter, three hundred and thirty eight page story. From my imagination to the page. I’m not gonna lie, when I look at it from that scope, it’s pretty incredible. But just as equally terrifying.

What’s the best that could happen?