Become Your Own Superfan

I got a two-star review on Goodreads. It didn’t have any text attached to it. So I don’t know what exactly the person who read my book (I do hope that they actually read the book) didn’t like about it, or what they found wrong with it.

It felt strange. It didn’t really upset me, but still, it stung a little. So I decided to reflect on my thoughts and feelings about it. I mean, I know that it’s not about me personally. It’s about my book, and it’s about that person and their opinion, which they are totally entitled to have.

But still, at some point I found myself feeling a little bit deflated and discouraged. You know, we all have those days, we all have those ups and downs. One day you feel like you’re on top of the world, and the next day you feel like you’re a complete failure. Or the imposter syndrome kicks in and it’s nagging you, saying ”Well, what did you expect? Did you think you were a good writer? And that everybody was going to read and like your book?” I’m sure many of you recognize that nasty little voice that lives inside your head.

So I was thinking about it, and analyzing my feelings, and trying to see what I’m doing wrong and what lesson I can learn from it.

And here’s what I came up with:

First of all, the only person that needs to truly believe in you and your writing (or whatever it is that you’re passionate about) is yourself. It’s great if you have a supportive environment. It’s awesome if your friends and family are there for you and they believe in you, no matter what. Or if you have an amazing streat team on Instagram, and you know that people are rooting for you all the time.

But you have to be absolutely sure that if all that is taken away from you — for any reason whatsoever — there will always be one person left on your side. YOU.

If tomorrow you wake up, and the world suddenly hates you. And people are like, “We just don’t like you anymore, and we don’t believe in you anymore. And we don’t want to read your stories anymore, and we don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Even if that extremely unpleasant scenario happens to you – you still need to be there for yourself. You have to not let anyone or anything bring you down or stop you from believing in yourself.

Second, people are different. They all have their own agenda. They have their good days and bad days. They have their moods.

People have things, other people, and circumstances that influence their every thought, their every word, and every decision. They’re not in control of it most of the time (or they choose not to be, but that’s another topic altogether.)

Let’s admit it, more often than we want to, we find ourselves not in control of our own lives. So how would you control anyone else, right?

What I’m talking about here is that you cannot influence other people, you cannot influence their opinion, you cannot influence/change/predict the next thing that they’re going to say or do, whether it’s concerning you, or anyone else, or anything else.

You can’t do anything about it. So let it go.

I’m a control freak myself, and I know too well how hard it is, but seriously, just LET IT GO. You cannot do anything about it. When you accept it, things will become much easier.

We’re all seeking approval and validation, whether we admit it or not. We all like to be praised. And valued. And liked. Even loved.

There’s nothing wrong with it, really. It’s a very natural thing. Problems start when it becomes a need, a priority, something you can’t function without.

And most of us fall into that trap more often than we would like to.

Because when we start depending on validation and approval from others – we’re trapped. Eventually, it will make us lose our real goal and forget our main destination. It will seem like we’re moving ahead, while in reality we’re just running out of breath on an invisible treadmill.

I saw a review on Goodreads recently from a fellow author Nicole Adair. She reviewed her own book, “A Tangle of Dreams.” She wrote, “I’m writing this review because the opinion that matters most to me is my own. It hasn’t always been this way, but that’s the way I’d like it to be from now on.”

There is so much power and so much wisdom in this. I keep repeating to myself, “That’s the way I’d like it to be from now on.”

Try this approach. I most definitely will.

Become your own number one fan. Your own supporter. If others offer you their approval and support, accept it with gratitude, but don’t make it a necessary condition for your success.

After all, nobody knows you better than you do. Nobody understands you better than you do. Everything else and everyone else is beyond your control.

Are You Proud Of Yourself?

“You should be proud of yourself,” my husband said. “You wrote a book.”

It was nice to hear. It meant a lot. He went on to tell me how much I have achieved and how proud he was of me.

I keep thinking about his words. Something was bothering me. And I realized what it was.

I understand that I should be proud of myself. I wrote a book. Me. By myself. In English, which isn’t even my native language. While raising a baby. And a teenager (nope, it’s not easier, I’m sure parents of teenagers will understand.)

I wrote a whole novel.

Why do I not feel proud?

I mean, I do feel good about it. I love my story. I know that after this final round of edits that I’m doing now it will shine even brighter. I can’t wait to share it with the world. I do believe that it’s going to be a great book.

But where’s that overwhelming feeling of joy and pride? Where’s the “Wow, I’m so awesome, I did it” moment?

It’s not there. There’s a whole lot of other things though. There’s “I probably could’ve done it better”; there’s “Okay, so you wrote a book, good, now get to the publishing and marketing side of things, too much to learn and do, no time to lose”; there’s “I need to write more, only where do I find the time, look, other authors are writing and releasing several books a year”. And there’s a bunch of other disturbing thoughts and worries. I’m steaming ahead in an attempt to catch up, to make up for the time I “lost” (I know it’s a misperception, but it happens when you’re dreaming of writing all your life but only start doing it when you’re 41).

And I guess I’m in too much of a rush to pause, look back at what I’ve achieved, and feel the pride. The key word here is feel. Not just understand, acknowledge or think of it as a fact. It’s important to attach some emotion to it.

Like a kid bringing home an award or a trophy from school, beaming with happiness.

That kind of proud.

I tried to remember the last time I felt anything like that. I couldn’t.

I know the feeling, though, because I feel proud of other people.

Earlier today my niece called me with some great news about her work. It’s something that she learned quite recently, and she made incredible progress in a short period of time. And now she has people who want to learn it from her. She was so thrilled to get a request from a student; her voice was filled with so much genuine happiness and pride – I could hear it although we’re thousands of miles apart and I couldn’t see her face. And I felt that pride and happiness for her. You know, that somewhat ticklish feeling of warmth in your chest, like you have your own little sun there caressing your heart with its rays.

I feel proud of my kids for their successes, big or small. Sometimes it’s so overwhelming it makes me want to cry.

I feel proud of my husband for all his accomplishments and achievements.

Why am I not that generous with pride when it comes to myself? Why do I get a “well done” and a virtual pat on the back from myself (okay, maybe a little treat sometimes too), but not the genuine feeling of pride?

Why do I find time to write long to-do lists and set tons of reminders, but don’t find time to write a list of things that I’m proud of?

Because first of all, I need to allow myself to be proud of my own achievements.

I’ll imagine there’s a ‘Settings’ menu somewhere inside my mind, and all I need to do is open that menu, find the “Appreciate yourself and feel proud” option, and hit ‘Allow’. Done.

And then I’ll write down a list of things that I’m proud of. Most probably, it won’t be that easy at the start. But I’ll still try.

And when I succeed (because of course I will succeed), I will look at the list of my achievements and I will take each and every thing on it and infuse it with a feeling. A feeling of pride and happiness. A feeling of joy, fulfillment and gratification.

I want to sit there with my eyes closed and a huge smile on my face, thinking about how amazing and cool I am.

I want you to do the same. (Well, with your own achievements though. But feel free to think that I’m amazing too, I won’t mind.)

Go change your inner settings and make that list. What have you done (recently or years ago, it doesn’t matter) that makes you feel happy and proud?

I’ll start.

I wrote a book.

Your turn.

The Magic of Storytelling

I miss my story and my characters.

“Follow the Hummingbird” is entering the final editing stage. I’m still receiving feedback from beta-readers, and it’s such a bitter-sweet feeling — I know I will go back to that world and tweak some things, but I miss the writing process. I miss creating those worlds. I miss characters reaching out to me and telling me what the next chapter would be about and where it would take place.

It’s all been written now, they’re all there, they exist, they’ve gone on their journeys, they’ve had their adventures, they’ve laughed, they’ve cried, they’ve struggled. Well, actually, I believe that they continue doing all that somewhere, in some realm where all our story ideas and fictional characters come alive.

It’s just that I miss creating them…

That’s why I enjoy feedback from my betas so much — when they talk about my characters or discuss certain scenes from the book, I dive back into that world happily.

That’s also why I started working on a new project, although ”Follow the Hummingbird” is not fully completed and has yet to be published.

Because I miss the writing process. And because the new characters are reaching out to me and asking me to tell their stories.

Considering that I am still working on my novel and it’s on my mind all the time, it kind of feels like cheating. I have to admit, I even get my characters’ names confused — in the story I wrote recently, I called my character Tina a couple times, using the name of the main character in my novel.

But it feels so good to write, and I figured that I’ll sort these issues out when I edit, and for now I’ll just focus on the writing.

The new project I’m working on is a collection of short stories called “The Town.” All the stories in it are happening in the same town, but they involve different characters and are not interrelated. The only thing they have in common is that they take place in the same town and the events that are happening in these stories are anything but ordinary.

In fact, I am going to include a couple of them in the mini-book that I’m putting together now. It’s a small collection of short stories called “Planting Seashells,” and I will be giving it away for free to my subscribers. I’ll add two stories from “The Town” as a sneak peek of my new project.

When I complete the mini-book, I’ll add a sign-up form here, so that you can subscribe to my monthly newsletter and receive the free mini-book. I’ll post about it additionally, so if you don’t want to miss it, you might want to consider subscribing to my blog updates. Or follow my posts/stories on Instagram.

I’m very excited about this new project. I know I’ll have so much fun writing all those different stories about all those different characters. I also know I will have to put it aside for a while when I’m doing the final round of edits of “Follow the Hummingbird,” which will be happening in about 2-3 weeks from now. But as soon as my little ’hummingbird’ flies out of the nest into the big world, I’m heading straight back to “The Town.”

When I’m there, I’ll find a cozy cafe with the best coffee in The Town, take a seat, look around, talk to its residents, and start writing down the stories they tell me.

I can’t wait.

This is the best part of being a writer. It’s pretty much like traveling through time and space, if you think about it. You get to go places that nobody knew existed, you get to meet all kinds of people and learn their deepest secrets. You get to be a demiurge and create worlds. All that without the need to actually leave your house… (one of the few possible ways to travel nowadays, right?)

And then you get to see what other people think of the worlds you created. What they think of your characters. Some will understand them and see them the way you do, some will see them in a very different way. Somebody will dream of your worlds. Somebody will miss your characters after they finish reading the book – just like you’ll miss them when you finish writing it.

It’s such a strange, unnerving, exciting and beautiful experience — to be sharing your stories with the world.

Worries, self-doubt and pigeon sh*t

Imagine yourself walking along the beach.

The sun is shining, a light sea breeze is playing with your hair, it’s peaceful and calm. Sure, you can hear a few seagulls yelling at each other while fighting over food, but that’s just an integral part of the scenery, nothing to be annoyed about.

It’s a beautiful day. You’re in no hurry to get anywhere in particular. All you’re happily concerned with is inhaling some fresh salty air, and enjoying the look and feel of the sun rays as they caress your skin and beautifully reflect off the blue surface of the sea.

You keep walking, and you find a stone. It’s covered in bird poop. You pick it up and slide it into your pocket.

That’s your worries. Something that makes you agitated every time you think about it. Something that even gives you anxiety. Something that is now resting in the pocket of your favorite jeans, while the dust and bird excrements are rubbing against the material.

You keep walking. You find a bigger rock this time, one that’s even dirtier. You pick it up and run your fingers along its filthy surface. With a gentle smile playing on your lips, you put it carefully in the other pocket.

That’s your self-doubt.

As you continue walking, you start feeling the discomfort of the rocks rubbing against your leg through the thin lining of the pocket. You cringe, but keep walking, looking under your feet for more rocks.

There are lots of them in the sand. Offense, negativity, fears, I-can’t-s, what-if-s, I-should-have-s, I-shouldn’t-have-s, I’m-not-good-enough-s. All peppered with seagull and pigeon shit, some with a dry piece of stinking dry seaweed stuck to their surface.

Your pockets are getting heavier as you keep filling them with rocks.

It’s not that easy to walk anymore. The rocks are in fact pulling your jeans down, and you glance around to check if anyone can see that you are about to lose your pants.

But you keep walking, and picking up new rocks. The pockets are full, your hands are full. The smell is becoming more and more distinct.

You can’t let go of the rocks though.

You’re barely dragging your feet through the sand now, and you need to keep pulling those jeans up all the time.

Suddenly you remember that somewhere in the bottom of your pockets, you had some beautiful tiny seashells that you had picked up earlier. And a few pieces of beach glass, bright green, perfectly polished by the sea, looking like emeralds.

Your achievements. Your blessings. Results of your hard work. Things that are supposed to bring you joy and sense of fulfillment, were they not buried underneath a pile of dirty rocks.

You decide to sit down on the sand and empty your pockets, when a seagull bombards you from above, shitting all over your baseball cap.

That’s public opinion.

You take your cap off and study it for a minute, looking at it closely, inhaling the smell of fresh bird poop, and then you put it back on your head. Carefully, trying to make sure that all of it stays and nothing is smudged accidentally.

You then go through the contents of your pockets, putting the dirty rocks to one side and the shiny glass to the other.

You look at both piles, and then you look at the beach around you, thinking of how much easier the walk would be if you left those stones on the sand. Oh, and there’s a trash can nearby, where you could leave the dirty hat, because you’ve got a few more at home, and the shops haven’t run out of them either.

The emerald green beach glass is sparkling on the sand. You pick it up and hold it against the sun. The smooth polished surface feels so great between the tips of your fingers. You enjoy the beauty for a moment or two, and then toss the glass aside. Then you start filling your pockets with the poop-covered rocks, making sure you don’t miss a single one.

You get up clumsily, pull up your jeans with a familiar gesture and continue dragging yourself through the sand.

The sun hides behind the clouds.

The seagulls have the most annoying voices.

The contents of your pockets stink.

You sigh and head back home, holding on tightly to your newly acquired “treasures.”

Does any of this look or sound familiar by any chance?

7 Simple Things To Help You Write

I have wanted to write for almost 40 years, but I only started to actually do it last year.

When looking at it like that – 40 years vs 1 – it feels like such a waste of time, doesn’t it? But it isn’t, really.

Sure, I could say that had I started writing decades ago, I would have most probably achieved a lot more by now. The thing that I realized, though, is that I can still achieve everything I want and even more. Besides, I believe that everything happens for a reason. That means that I had to go through everything I went through, I had to gain that experience, I had to develop a certain mindset, in other words, I had to become who I am today. And having done all that, I am now ready for this new exciting journey. So, no regrets.

Continue reading 7 Simple Things To Help You Write