For the Love of Writing

That's why I did it. That's why I self-published my book. Because I love to write. It's that simple.

Did I ever think I'd make a million dollars at it? No. Never. I've never cared about money except to have enough to pay bills and take care of my family. Even if I was a millionaire I'd still shop at thrift stores. Money is best spent on family and friends and out of love.

Did I care? Not in the slightest. This isn't about money for me. I've written for myself for free for years. I wrote for the college newspaper for free, and I loved every second of it. I've always made sacrifices for my love of writing. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to.

Did I think everyone would enjoy it? Not at all. No more than I think every person enjoys the same food or clothing or car or anything else in life where we all have different personalities that cause us to make different and unique choices.

Do I think it's literary genius? No, but I do think it's well-written, well-edited, and what my heart wanted to say. If people like it, then fine. If not, then that's fine, too. But I take my writing seriously, and I always have. It's sacred to me.

Did I think I might offend some people?  Well, yes. But it wasn't intentional, because I merely wrote my heart. I just have a very diverse group of friends who range from very conservative to very liberal, and I love them all. I never once thought my book was a global target that would please or impress everyone. Such an achievement isn't even possible.

Why did I do it then? For the love of writing. Seriously. And because deep down, I just wanted to share my words and have even one person say they were moved by it. If I had only sold one book and someone loved it, that would have been complete validation for me. But I have sold more than one, and I do believe most people have enjoyed it. Some have been more moved by it than others, I'm certain. But I'm literally thrilled that anyone related to it and was even momentarily engaged by it.

No, I didn't get picked up by a famous publishing house with an advance and a contract. But I'm quite easily intimidated. And admittedly, I don't deal with rejection well. I never even sent the manuscript off to anyone. I self-published because I just march to the beat of my own drum. I always have. I don't read instructions, I put something together based on the picture on the box. I don't follow recipes, I just add ingredients and mix and experiment. The same went for publishing. I just did it my way.

Am I proud of myself? Well, yes. And I'm one of the most humble and easily embarrassed people you can ever meet. But I am proud of myself. Not for publishing, not for selling more than one book, not for seeing my name in print or my words put between a book cover. I'm proud of myself for getting the guts to finally do something I didn't think I would ever do. I was always too shy to put my work out there. But you never know until you try. My brother died at 32 without living out all his dreams. I did it for me and for him because he never can now.

Short and sweet...I have too many words in my heart for just one person, and I've kept them inside for far too long. And that's why I did this. For the love of writing.

http://www.amazon.com/Rose-Her-Own-Michele-Pendleton/dp/1482569167