One of the many facets of my INFJ personality, that I’ve identified as of late, is this curious little “superpower” I’ve come to know and love. It hasn’t a name, just Superpower. We’re tight.
I was days away from hitting the PUBLISH button on my book, for both the print and e-version. I’d talked to everyone I could think of, emailed, and texted anyone who would listen but something just wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, something felt off.
Then, without even consulting me, Superpower sent a message to two authors I recently started following on Instagram. “I’m freaking out and I don’t know why,” it said. Could I just be nervous about the book and its impending reviews (both good and bad)? Could I just be scared of sharing all my dirtiest secrets?—I mean, it is shame-filled memoir, after all.
It’s something more
The two (among many more) aforementioned fears are valid. As I’m sure they are for most writers. Especially when we’re talking about one’s first book. Stephen King threw Carrie away, ashamed of his own efforts. And I am definitely not Stephen King, those are some big shoes to fill and nobody will ever do it.
My two new author friends replied, “we’re here for you. Let’s talk.” Soon enough, I was on the phone with two very sweet, supportive, amazing people who helped me identify my fears. It’s not the commas, or semicolons. I wasn’t even feeling that nervous about speaking out against a world-wide religious organization, identifying them as a cult, thus confirming to current members of this denomination—I am mentally diseased, an apostate.
It was my own professionalism that had pulled up a chair and sat at my table of anxiety. What was missing was pride in my own work. A self-accepting stamp that shouts, “I did this! This is my creation! And I’m proud of it!”
Once again, without even consulting me, Superpower stepped in and took over. Before I knew it, I had almost everything I needed for an LLC—all within a twenty-four-hour period. The paperwork is in motion.
big plans
Perhaps I wouldn’t have jumped inside the fast-moving sports car of LLC ownership if I only planned to write one book, to heal, and be done with it. But I’m not.
I’ve got other almost-complete memoirs, first-drafts of fiction, and even some dark poetry (which is new but I assume Superpower knows what it’s doing) sitting on my laptop and filling the “Notes” section of my phone. Even drafted on paper, sitting in my antique Sears Citation typewriter, is more fiction. All of it is waiting to exhale.
But first, the logistics. Which I am hoping don’t take longer than I can stand. My memoir is ready, but she needs her support system in place first. When excitement replaces trepidation, that’s when you know it’s right. I know for sure this will be the first of many books. I know it and Superpower knows it.
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