This is likely something I should be discussing with a therapist, but since I don’t have one, I’ll just put it all out there.
I’ve had a challenging six months. Is it normal to feel like crying (and sometimes actually do) whenever someone casually asks, “How are you?” Because that has been my reality for quite a while now.
The Highs and Lows of Publishing
After my first book was published, I realized just how much I thrived on the exhilarating highs that came with it. Sure, there were some lows—like when only one person showed up to my reading—but the highs felt monumental: making it to the New York Times bestseller list, embarking on a book tour, and selling the foreign rights were just a few of the thrilling moments. I became hooked on that rush.
But when summer rolled around, those highs vanished. I found myself on the phone with my agent, expressing my boredom. I lamented that nobody wanted to interview me or invite me to events. I missed the adrenaline and excitement. “Write another book,” she suggested. So, I took her advice.
Anticipation Turns to Disappointment
Once the hard part—writing—was behind me, I eagerly anticipated the release of my second book. Having learned from my first experience, I was ready for an even bigger and better journey. I was prepared to ride that high once again.
Unfortunately, the anticipation quickly turned into disappointment. It felt like a series of unfortunate events began right before my book launch: I learned that due to a conflict with my publisher, many of my books would be pulled from Barnes & Noble shelves. No promotions, no events—just silence. I was advised to stay positive and focus on online sales, which I attempted to do.
The results were disheartening. The initial week’s sales were dismal, and things only went downhill from there. Was it the Barnes & Noble situation? The aftermath of the Boston Marathon bombings? Or was it simply a case of bad timing with too many similar titles hitting the market? Whatever the reason, it became clear that while my first book had sold well enough to suggest a sequel, this second one might not lead to a third. I felt blindsided—like a train had hit me when I had expected a thrilling ride.
Continued Setbacks
The setbacks continued. A highly-anticipated segment we filmed for a popular show was deemed too positive and was ultimately shelved. Promised media coverage never materialized, and I faced logistical issues at events where my books failed to arrive. I tried to stay light-hearted and keep perspective, but without any highs to offset the lows, my second book began to feel like an outright failure.
Time and again, I was told not to share my struggles publicly. Nobody wants to hear from someone who seems defeated; success begets success, I was advised. So, I remained silent and hoped for a turnaround, but each passing week chipped away at my self-worth.
A Struggle for Authenticity
This blog—my platform for honesty—became a place where I felt pressured to conceal my true feelings. I built a community around authenticity, yet found myself unable to express the disappointments I was facing. I started writing superficial pieces, avoiding deeper discussions because the raw truth felt too difficult to share. Gradually, I retreated, inviting more contributors to fill the space I could no longer occupy.
While I take pride in how community-driven this platform has become, there are countless topics I can no longer discuss—my pregnancy feels like a distant memory, and my children are at an age where I prefer to keep their experiences private. I appreciate the diverse voices contributing to the conversation, but I also miss my own voice. This has led to some resentment towards the very site I created and cherish.
Reclaiming My Voice
This may come off as trivial, and perhaps you’re thinking of it as a “first-world problem.” I recognize how fortunate I am to have published two books and know that others face far worse challenges. But the past six months have taken a toll. I’ve spent too long wearing a mask of happiness and trying to maintain relationships while following advice that didn’t resonate with me.
Now, I’m ready to emerge from this self-imposed isolation. I want to reclaim the pride I once felt on this platform instead of feeling burdened by disappointment. I long to write again without the insecurity that has led me to delete posts before they go live, hiding behind the editor’s role. I want to find inspiration and positivity again, and I believe that starts with being honest about my experiences.
So there it is—my unvarnished truth. Hallelujah.
Moving forward, I’m excited to reclaim my voice.
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Summary: The author shares a deeply personal reflection on the challenges faced after the release of their second book, including struggles with self-worth and the pressures of maintaining a successful public persona. They express a desire to reclaim their voice and authenticity after feeling silenced by external expectations.