I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was 10 years old.
For a long time, I didn’t believe it was a dream that would ever come true.
But recently, things have started to happen. I was offered a publishing contract and have started a crowdfunding campaign to support the release of my novel.
Despite a few spells of excitement, I still can’t quite believe that this is real. Part of me doesn’t want to believe, in case something goes wrong and it all goes away.
Last week I took a day off work so I could go to my local BBC Radio station to talk about my book and about publishing. After that I met with my writing mentor to talk about my next manuscript, started to work on a writer in residence project I’m planning and spent the afternoon in a café working on my new book.
It was a lovely, low-key, creative day and I came home feeling like a writer.
For an hour or two, I let myself believe that this is the start of something. That maybe, I’m at the beginning of a new career. That the things I’ve been working towards for so long might become a reality.
I got excited and savoured the enjoyment and the growing sense of self-confidence.
Of course, I soon talked myself out of it, letting all the usual fears creep back in.
But I still get flashes of that feeling, the one that tells me I’m becoming the person I want to be.
Maybe it’ll sink in eventually and I’ll stop waiting for something to go wrong.
Perhaps I’ll allow myself to enjoy it and feel proud of the things I’ve achieved. Because what’s the point in realising your dream if you can’t stop and appreciate it?
If you’d like to find out more about my novel, The Disappeared, please check out my crowdfunding campaign with Unbound.