The happy amateur

Yes, that’s me. The happy amateur. Remember way back when I wrote ‘being an amateur’? No? That’s okay. It feels like a long time ago for me too. I think that there are waves you ride when you’re an indie author. You have ups and downs, wondering why and how and when and what and where, just like in other aspects of life. I went through the ‘frustrated by being invisible’ phase, I went through ‘why don’t you really want different if you say you want different?’ phase, and I went through the ‘I really think they’re stealing my ideas’ phase.  Then I came full circle. I’m back to being the happy amateur. The one who doesn’t care about the people who try to crush me. The one who doesn’t have aspirations of being a ‘best’ seller. The one who really loves their crazy characters like they’re any other people I don’t know but hear about.  The love came back.  I don’t think it ever really left, I think it was hidden under those pressures and phases. I was happy when I remembered that I did this solo, that I did it my way, that I wrote the story I wanted to read, that I broke the rules, that I sold a book and I liked it, that I have ideology, that I have a small fan base, and that I made new fan-friends and other friends. I remembered that I’m a self-published, self-edited, self-cover created, self-promoting, self-assured, self-effacing, self-self. I’m me. My books. My way. Total control over loving what I created, and not letting anyone take that away from me. Who’s a happy mature amateur? Me!


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