Middle-Aged Sass
Middle age is amazing. Being tired is amazing. Not caring is amazing.
Bear with me for a few minutes as I explain because I’m certainly not talking about the constant new aches and pains my body insists on discovering. Most days, I can’t tell if I’ve injured myself or if this is just how I am now. I’m talking about the level of I don’t give a rat’s ass only crossing the threshold into middle age can give you.
I published my first book eight years ago, and in the time since, I’ve published three more. My sales aren’t great—not because the books aren’t good; my reviews are positive—but because in a sea of romance novels on Amazon, no one will see you unless you make them see you.
Cool. I knew that all along.
Knowing something and doing something about it are two vastly different things. So why didn’t I do more to make people see me? Why didn’t I try harder to give the romance reading world the opportunity to buy a book I know they’d enjoy?
Spending this past weekend at a writers’ conference gave me the clarity I couldn’t get anywhere else. I was surrounded and embraced by people plagued by the exact same issue I’ve encountered. Some of them have successfully navigated through the maze, some are in the process, and some are so early in their writing journey that they don’t even realize how daunting the maze can be. During some of the workshops, I repeatedly heard the question asked in a multitude of contexts—Why? After the last workshop I attended, Building a Brand by Caridad Piñeiro, I asked myself that very question – Why? Why didn’t I put in the effort to make them see me? I have the information. I have the ability. I know I’ve put together some really fun books to read.
The answer is simple. Fear.
What will people think about me? Will they think I’m silly for making social media posts? Will they think I’m bragging? Will they whisper behind my back, “She really thinks she’s something. Her books aren’t even that good.”? Was I afraid of what success might look like? Maybe I wasn’t ready to embrace the kind of change success would bring to my life. Maybe I was too afraid to chase my dreams.
Fear is such a dumb reason not to do something – unless that something is jumping out of a perfectly good airplane – I’m definitely siding with fear on that one. But seriously, I didn’t let fear stop me from writing that first book…or the next… or the next. I didn’t let fear stop me from returning to college to finish my bachelor’s degree after 25 years. I didn’t let fear stop me from taking a promotion. So, why the hell am I letting fear stop me from being proud of my hard work?
No one starts at the top. I can’t wait until someone else thinks I’ve earned the right to be proud of my work to be proud of my work. That’s just idiotic.
The fear of what others will think has been plaguing my brain for so long that I forgot to stop and ask myself one very important question: Do I really value other people’s opinions that much?
The insanely liberating answer is a resounding NO!
Which brings me back to the opening lines of this post. Middle age is amazing. Being tired is amazing. Not caring is amazing. As I creep through my forties, I realize I no longer have the energy or the patience to care that deeply about someone else’s opinion. If you think my social media posts are silly, braggy, or dumb….don’t look at them. If you don’t like my books, don’t read them. If you want to poke fun at my efforts, go ahead. Either way, I’ll just be here – writing, posting, not caring, and reveling in the immortal words of advice my father had for any of life’s hardships…
“Fuck ‘em.”
