I'm not sure how it's already been five years ... but it has. Five years since I published an unedited, unmarketed, unpromoted [those are totally words] book that all of three people knew about. Then shrugged, looked at my husband, and agreed if 100 people bought the story within a year it would be incredible.
I didn't even tell my mom until a week or so later. If you're wondering, she laughed and said, "You don't write. You don't even read."
Yeah, Mom. I know.
Because even though I tell my mom everything, only a select few people knew about my newfound love of reading. And only a couple knew that I'd been writing. [Just so you know, my mom is now my biggest cheerleader apart from my husband.]
And now, five years later, I feel like I'm still struggling to figure out how to do this.
Because I'm still so new to this. Because this industry is ever-evolving. Because it never stops being absolutely terrifying to rip your chest open and expose your heart to the world.
However, you've made all the difference. My readers mean the world to me, and I feel beyond blessed that I get to do something that allows me to meet so many wonderful people. That allows me to connect with people over "fictional" [come on, they're totally real] characters and worlds.
So thank you for being amazing. Thank you for five years. Thank you for making my life so special. Thank you for loving Chase and Brandon as much as I did all those years ago.
Five years is the "wood" anniversary. But we're not married or anything. So ... here's some guy chopping wood.