People are paying for my stories. They’re taking the money they earned doing hard work, probably work more important than mine, and giving it to me because they want to read my stories.

Holy crap. This is really happening! I can’t believe it.

When you decide to follow your dream, there’s a part of you that thinks you can’t possibly fail. There’s also another, larger part that’s convinced you’re totally doomed. When you actually ship your product or start selling your service—when it’s finally out there, and it’s time to find out if you’ll succeed or fail—it’s a constant struggle between disappointment over your wildest expectations not coming true, and elation that it’s working at all.

You might be guessing from how this post start that it’s been going well for me so far, and you’d be right. But I realized today that how much I’m selling isn’t important. Here’s what’s important:

People are paying me for my stories. People I don’t know, people I’ve never met, enough people that I’ll never be able to meet them all—if only because they’re spread out, and scheduling is a bear—are buying my stories. People are paying me for my work, and some of them are enjoying them. They’ve told me so themselves.

Holy crap. I can’t believe it. That’s pretty damn cool.

Usually I try to say more of value in these posts, but I had to get that out. While I have you here, if you’ve finished Wage Slave Rebellion, would you mind giving me a review on Amazon? Reviews are a huge help to authors, because they help bring in even more people who want to read our work. Thank you.

I just called myself an author, and it felt natural. AHHH, this is really happening!