Yesterday and today I went to my local booksellers and signed their copies of Pandora's Closet. Watching them slap the "authographed copy" sticker on the front gave me goose bumps. It's finally, really, truly, real.
On the edge of the euphoria, though, is the angst. What if I never sell another story? What if I write books that never get sold? What if a stanger never feels moved by the words I've written? What if a stranger never reads my words, period? What if this is it for me?
Those thoughts chill me, I'm not afraid to admit it. I want this to be a humble beginning, not the end.