Well, these last two days have certainly been a whirlwind. Not the scary tornado type, but the awesome warm windy Oz kind.
We have no clue how many copies of From Head to Foot have been sold in the first 48 hours, and that doesn’t totally matter. What was awesome was that social media was all.a.buzz.
It was really fun.
So thank ya kindly for your time and tweets. It really means more than you could ever know.
. . . . . . . . . .
And here’s how it started.
In my heart, I dreamed of someday writing a book.
In 2003, I went over to Drew & Natalie’s house. I took my laptop. I sat down beside Drew and said, “I think I want to write a book.” I then had him read a few practice chapters that were literally horrible.
But that was the first time I said it.
That was the start. I had a huge chunky laptop and I wondered if two page chapters would be acceptable. I wrote stupid things that really no one should ever have to read. I wrote a chapter titled “Valentine’s Day” and all it said was “I hate it.” IN THE WHOLE CHAPTER.
Yeah, good stuff.
I kept it 100% to myself until the day I told Drew and Natalie.
It’s been a seven year journey. There were multiple times that I wanted to quit. Heck. There were multiple times [including, but not limited to, April 2010] when I actually did quit and say, “nope, I’ll never get to be an author.”
[God made the whole thing happen and that's a much longer story than we have space for.]
But it would have never started if I didn’t say it outloud that day in Athens, Georgia sitting on the couch with Drew and Natalie.
And because you and I have been friends for a while, you’ve seen this whole thing unfold. [If you haven't, here is the Westbow Self Pub story.] So you know the end of the story.
But for things to even start, I had to say it.
It was a scary moment, to tell them. But I don’t regret it at all. Because, y’all, I have a copy of my own book on my bedside table. How could I regret that first moment when the end of the story is so stinkin’ cool?
I don’t even care if anyone else buys it. I have a copy of my own. That’s the real win. Right?
So I’m going to push you a little today. I’m not a major feather ruffler [huh?], but I’m going to make you molt today. You’ve got this whole comment section and nothing to be afraid of. Saying your dream doesn’t force you to act on it [I'm not the boss of you], it is just the first step.
And I have to wonder if you are here because you are dying for someone to give you permission to be brave.
And I have to wonder if we have the hugest collection of awesome dreams and I wonder if more people will dream if we say our dreams first.
You have permission to tell us.
Just say it.
My dream is __________________.
I’ll go first. A girl’s gotta dream….