I am an author

One year ago, I attended the London Book Fair as an aspiring author: insecure, full of stories unshared, of dreams fragile as soap bubbles.

One year ago I took a decision: I would not be an aspiring author any longer.

One year ago I opened a Twitter account, created a blog, and sent out my manuscript, A Cunning Plan, to agents and publishing houses all over.

One year ago I wrote a letter on my blog called A place for hope. As I wrote this letter, I promised myself and my readers that I would stop being afraid, that I would embrace what I was at last: a WRITER. Words have power. By calling myself an author, I became one.

I am an author.

One year later and I’ve got a publisher.

One year later and I’ve got an edited manuscript with my name sprawled across its beautiful cover.

One year later and my book is about to be launched.

One year later and I keep up A place for hope on my blog to remind me of the long way I’ve come and the power of hope.

I am an author.

One year later and most of the friends I’ve made on Twitter have completed their manuscripts, many are now published. We have cheered each other on, empathized when inspiration was scarce, rejoiced at our successes. I am so grateful for their support and the examples of bravery they’ve shown me.

We all have one thing in common: We are dreamers, believers, AUTHORS.

Never stop believing! xxcourage

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